


Once upon a time.

by Elit3



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Blushing Enjolras, Cute, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras and Cosette Fauchelevent are Twins, Enjolras as Cinderella, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Fluff, Grantaire as Prince Charming, Hurt Enjolras, Hurt Grantaire, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Enjolras, POV Grantaire (Les Misérables), Protective Grantaire, Songfic, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elit3/pseuds/Elit3
Summary: Enjolras was abandoned by his mother in the cruel hands of the Count and Countess Thénardier, and then his sister left him for a better life, when Enjolras believed that all hope was lost he met him, his stranger, his glimmer of hope in a world of pain.This is not the story of Cinderella or Les Miserables as you have known them, this is a whole new story.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. A choice to change of life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope that you will like it. I'll try to publish the rest of the fic as soon as possible. Also, I apologize for the misspellings.

Once upon a time, in a small town near Paris, a man came on horseback. Everything about this man denoted with the rest of the village, whether it was his long black waxed boots, his cape as blue as the night, to his top hat. He could only be a nobleman, obviously, it was not uncommon to see nobles walking through the village, but never a nobleman of such high birth. Even though the sky was overcast, the inhabitants were still outside watching this strange man pass by, some dared to ask him for money for their families and they received gold coins (real gold coins!). In exchange, the nobleman only asked them for the location of the count's manor in this charming little village. Silence fell in the small square, all the inhabitants looked at each other sheepishly, some were afraid and returned to their homes, only two courageous dared to tell him where the mansion was.

If the inhabitants were so afraid of this innocent question was because the count and the countess: the Thenardiers were cruel people, stingy for ever more money, had no sense of responsibility, but had very good gifts speaker. For them, the inhabitants of the village were nothing but the populace, insects under their boots, vulgar won bread. The only reason why the people had not revolted was out of fear, the Thenardiers had assured them that they were good friends of the king, how could they fight against the king? So the good people of the village let it go and drowned their sorrow in the local tavern, a tavern which obviously belonged to the Thenardier.

The nobleman easily found the manor, only one main road led there since the house was surrounded by a small forest. He descended with the ease of the nobles from his horse, which he tied to a portico. He was about to knock when the sound of a soft voice comes to him from afar, curious, he left to investigate. The man's investigation led him behind the mansion, into a charming little courtyard, but what piqued his curiosity was the frightened child near the well. She hadn't noticed it yet and her voice, though shaky, was beautiful although the reason she was singing was horrible. Instead of singing for fun, the child sang to give courage.

The adult made a small sound with his throat to attract the attention of the little girl who jumped, turned to him then ran to hide behind the well water. The man smiled at this behavior but he knelt down, even though the mud got into his pants, and he smiled at the child as he introduced himself. He quickly gained the confidence of the child who had probably never known an adult who spoke to him so kindly. When he asked her for her first name, she answered only with "Cosette, sir". The man's smile grew even warmer and he waved his hand at her so she could warm herself in her cloak, which she did without thinking twice. He then asked her if she had a brother, Cosette nodded sharply and a smile stretched her features, proof of incomparable brotherly love, and she pointed inside the house. The nobleman took the child's small hand in his much larger one and the bucket in his other hand and walked towards the mansion. 

The interior was fairly well kept, although the smell of alcohol and cigars was omnipresent. Laughter echoed throughout the mansion and on entering the living room, the man saw six people all more drunk than the next, a baby in his nursery who was bawling at the top of his lungs, a little dark-haired girl sat on the knees of what was presumably her father and a little boy who held a heavy silver tray with glasses of alcohol on it. The man put the bucket on the floor, strong enough to turn all heads in the room and startle the blond-haired child who knocked the tray down. Two adults shouted at her, including the man with the little girl on his lap, Cosette let go of the nobleman's hand to help her brother even the third child tried to get out of her father's lap but the man held her back and scolded her that it was not his role to get on all fours like animals. A woman asked him who he thought he was to enter their house like a thief, the nobleman gave them a charming smile before replying that he was the mayor of Paris who had come for business. At this word, two carnivorous smiles answered him and the man let his daughter come out of his knees to better speak to him. "And what bring you here, my good sir", asked Count Thenardier. The mayor approached the nursery to calm the baby while answering absent-mindedly that he had come to look for Fantine's children on behalf of the poor deceased woman. The countess made the two children stop picking up the broken glass and took them in her arms. The two children didn't seem thrilled to be in the lady's arms and they squirmed to get out of the embrace. 

Count Thénardier was indeed a good orator and with well-chosen words, he made the mayor understand that only a child could leave or none would leave, such was the agreement that the Thenardiers had made with Fantine, and unfortunately, the noble could not override this agreement. Heartbroken and with a pained look on his face, he asks to talk to the children alone. The Earl and Countess nodded and told her they could talk in the kitchen. 

Cosette did not leave her brother's side on the way to the kitchen, which remained at a certain distance from the mayor, having no confidence in the mysterious man. The child did not warm up even when his sister tried to convince him of the good intentions of the adult but the brother was stubborn. And once the mayor finished explaining the situation to them, the child understood that he was right to be wary of the man. He was not their savior, he only came to separate them, them who already were abandoned by their mother to people without faith or laws except that of money. Cosette burst into tears and clung to her brother, refusing to look at the adult from now on, it was out of the question for the young girl to leave her brother, her twin. But the brother was as smart as he was stubborn with a very weak sense of self-preservation. So he pushed his sister away at arm's length and touched her cheek to wipe away the tears, then he told/ordered her that she should go with the man. The child was relentless and gave the best possible arguments to make his sister understand that she had to go. The nobleman was impressed, the child of barely 8 years old was a better orator than the Thenardiers will ever be. Cosette finally understood and she burst into tears again, giving her brother the biggest hug possible. The second twin kept his gaze on the mayor and he didn't need words to make the adult promise to take care of his sister. The man was shocked again at the confident look the boy had given him, his blue eyes burned with a fire no one could put out, and his face remained determined although a tear managed to slip over it. her cheek. It was only after five minutes that Cosette finally let go of her brother and she returned to the benevolent man.

The farewells were heart-wrenching, well not those between the Thenardiers and Cosette of course, but between the three children. Cosette made the other girl promise to watch over her brother, which the young girl eagerly promised her, she too loved the boy like her brother. Finally comes the farewell between the two twins. They gave each other one last hug, made one last promise and the boy said/ordered the mayor to leave. The man was now on his horse with Cosette in front of him, she was still crying, they heard footsteps beside them and, turning around, saw the boy running behind them. "Cosette!" he cried. The child could not finish his sentence because he fell to the ground but he got up quickly, blood flowed from his nose, tears stained his cheeks but a brilliant smile was on his lips. He raised his hand and motioned to his sister, shouting that he would see each other again soon.  


The nobleman resumed his journey to Paris, his heart aching. Not only because of his promise to Fantine but because he had to leave a young boy full of bravery and courage with people who would do anything to break him. The man hoped the boy would be okay, he had to. And the mayor was convinced of it after seeing the look in the child's eyes, a fire that burned so intensely, nothing could extinguish it, reduce it to a flame but not extinguish it, never.

Cosette had ended up falling asleep exhausted from having cried so much, and she was now bundled up in the adult's warm cloak. In her sleep, the young girl whispered a first name: "Antoine".


	2. The lives afterward.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8 years after the events of the first chapter, the lives of the two heroes go on and it is time for you to discover what will happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope that you will like it.

Since this sad event, 8 years had passed, the twins were now 16 years old. Their only resemblance, apart from the physical one, of course, ended there. Cosette had been, for some months now, Madame Pontmercy, a high lady of the court. She had become a pretty young woman, with a slim waist, her head held high, graceful, funny, and intelligent. To say she made people jealous would be an understatement. But she was the happy bride of Maris Pontmercy, the prince's closest friend. Her father, the mayor of Paris, Monsieur Fauchelevent, had not been delighted at first to see her marry since he still saw her as the child he had saved, but he had ended up giving in once the couple had promised to come often to see him. In addition, Paris and the royal castle were not that far away.

Cosette couldn't be happier, but secretly she was in pain, so much that she would wake up at night crying and screaming the name of a man other than her husband's. His heart sank at the sight of little boys with blond hair and blue eyes. Only the presence of her husband allowed her to continue when the memories became too vivid. Marius had become her rampart, her confidant, the only person she could talk to about her brother. O Antoine, her dear Antoine, her twin whom she called big-brother, the only person who had protected him from these monsters. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he still with the Thenardiers, where had he fled? Did those monsters manage to break him down or was the fire that burned in his eyes still there? Was Eponine taking care of him as she had promised? So many questions for so few answers, but soon, yes soon, she would save her big brother - and Eponine and her little brother - out of this hell that they were all probably living. Yes, more than two years and Antoine and Eponine will be of age, so she and her father will go get them. Obviously, she could have asked the prince to do something, Marius had told her countless times that Grantaire would go and save them if only she asked him to. But, she knew Antoine, knew that he would not like to be offered charity, and besides, how could she bother The Crown Prince of France with such an outdated question.

Grantaire was… well… a prince, obviously, with the demands and tastes of a prince. He had a penchant for wine from Bordeaux, which had earned him the title of "alcoholic prince" throughout the country. He could be petulant, stubborn, demanding, sarcastic with a taste for cynicism. But, for people who really knew him, he knew how to be kind, funny, intelligent, charming. He took to heart his duty as a future leader although he did not show it openly. So if Cosette had asked him to go and save his brother from the clutches of two monsters, he would have taken his favorite horse, his sword, and his crown, which he practically never wore except when his duties as a prince required him to do so and would have done something completely dramatic and "chivalrous" to bring Antoine back to Cosette.

However, she did not tell him about Antoine. It will only be months later that she will be very angry for not having told Grantaire about it, for not having told him that she had a brother named Antoine but for now Cosette was living in the ridiculous hope that his brother was okay.

** 

Enjolras was not well, not well at all. No, it was sure, he was still going to have a bad quarter of an hour. Why? Well, his little master Gavroche - whom he secretly called little brother - had run away again. The rascal spent his time fleeing, sneaking through the secret passages of the mansion to go God is where. And since Enjolras had nothing better to do according to the Thenardiers, except: prepare the meal, clean the floor, patch the clothes of the countess, and go to the markets to find something to prepare the meal and bring back a box of cigars to the count, all this without complaining of course at the risk of being hit with a cane on his already bruised back. So, when Madame asked him to go get her son, he nodded, answered "yes, Madame" and left with his basket, he would go to the market before going into the woods. Of course in his head it is not an answer as submissive as he answered but something a little more colorful: "Of course, oh dear mistress, I will go and look for your child whom you do not even care about, by the way, since I have nothing else to do with my day except to respond to your every whim! ". But he didn't say that and he had to bite his tongue until it blew to keep it from forking. The Thenardiers thought they'd managed to break him years ago, but if only they knew ...

If only they knew what a stupid mistake they had made in teaching him to read and write, first Eponine was teaching her in secret but then they ordered their daughter to teach her. First, so that he could write in place of the count or the countess and also read their letters to them, but then because they did not want to pay a tutor for Gavroche. Because yes in addition to these daily tasks, he had to teach the "little monster" how to read and write, as well as other subjects. Except that Gavroche was smarter and smarter than these parents knew, so the 8-year-old had already been able to read and write for a long time, but he continued acting to allow Enjolras to rest and read books on politics. by Gavroche. Thus Enjolras knew how to read and write - and count - which allowed him to enhance his talents as a speaker and galvanize his supporters. 

No, he was not planning to dethrone the royalty, despite the fame of the "alcoholic prince" the king and queen were doing their best. They were not perfect, far from it, and made mistakes but they did not launch the country into a futile war because their honor was violated, they allowed same-sex marriages, had created a help to the poor -this would never allow the poor to live decently but they had at least one meal per day per person and employers have to hire the poor without a valid reason for refusing-, and executions are done less and less without proof of total guilt of the culprits. Except that there were always loopholes that people like the Thenardiers could exploit and it was against them that Enjolras planned to make a revolution. He wanted to see them fall, see them collect their change, and look them in the eye to let them know that it was he who dethroned them. He and no one else. Gavroche and Eponine would then become masters of the village and everything would be better.

Except that, for the moment the revolution had led nowhere. With his friends, he had tried the peaceful route by sending letters of complaint to the mayor of Paris who had never answered them. He and his friends had collected the testimonies of the inhabitants and had transcribed everything. More than six months of hard work for nothing, it had been an exhaustive task collecting all the complaints between those he had had to bribe - with words - and his busy schedule. But soon, they'll be ready to take the less ... diplomatic route.

Thus, Enjolras took advantage of every opportunity he had to send letters to his friends and he signed them with his first name, only Eponine, Gavroche, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, and Jehan knew his first name. The first name Antoine was becoming more and more foreign to him, being used to being called Enjolras by everyone, another means that the Thenardiers found to humiliate him, this first name even had no distinct meaning, just a heap of letters put together. At the market, he easily found his friends, barely exchanged two words with them - all he had to say was already on the letter he had slipped in Feuilly - and finished his shopping. The newly filled basket was heavy but he was used to it now. As he suspected Gavroche was not at the market so he retraced his steps, onto the main road, but instead of continuing, he took a small dirt road that led to a wooden hut. Enjolras had no idea how the kid had found him, he himself would never have found it despite spending hours in the woods to go to the orchard, but his little brother had shown him. It was their secret, and that of Eponine, and that of Gavroche's friends. Well, it was a cabin in the woods, not a hiding place, the most important thing was that the Thenardiers didn't know it.

"-Gavroche! he called from below the cabin.

-Coming ! a little stifled voice answered him, a sign that Gavroche had done something stupid again.

The child quickly descended from the hut using the rope hanging from a hole in the hut.

-Look at you! Where were you dragged again? Enjolras tried to clean the cheek of his brother who let him do.

-And you, have you not seen how you look like? Your cheeks are plains of soot.

It’s true that he hadn’t looked in a mirror lately, what for? to see his face full of ash? the dark circles under his eyes? Or his hair that goes all over the place? No, he preferred not to look at himself.

-It's not the same and you know it very well. Now go back to the mansion the same way you left and clean up before your parents see you.

-As you wish! Gavroche began to run. Can I have an orange? "

Enjolras huffed but still threw the fruit at him, it will always be one less thing to wear. The kid quickly disappeared from his sight, hoping he wouldn't get caught or else it was going to be Enjolras who was going to be punished again. At this defeatist note, the young man started walking again, trying not to fall with the roots of the trees, the road was certainly shorter towards the manor but much more winding.

As anyone would have guessed, Enjolras fell from a root, it's like trying very hard to focus on something only to find that you weren't paying as much attention as what you thought. He tried to get to his feet but fell back very quickly from the pain in his right ankle. Enjolras did not cry, crying does not lead to anything except to be hit harder, so he picked up the basket that fell to the ground and stood up. He used the trees as a support to return to the main road at least it would be less risky for his poor ankle.

He got there in record time given his condition. Except that he had wasted a lot of time cutting across the woods to look for Gavroche, then turning back to get back on the main road, it was getting late and Enjolras was still far from home. He took a deep breath and started walking again, limping.

According to him, he was halfway there. The mansion would soon be in sight when the sounds of horses rung out right next to him. Surprised he turned to the source of the noise to see riders approaching him. Enjolras had no time to pull away and fell to the ground where one of the horses had passed near him. The ground: one point and its buttocks: zero. For the second time that day, he tried to stand up but the pain in his ankle returned. Awesome. Fantastic. He was so dead. Enjolras was about to swear at the horsemen when he saw one of them turn back to stop in front of him. The man dismounted his horse very easily - too much even - and offered his hand to Enjolras. The young man hesitated, he didn't like strangers, but he got lost in the other man's eyes, so green the forest would be jealous of them, and he accepted the outstretched hand. Except his ankle hadn't miraculously healed and he would have fallen back, head first this time except if a pair of strong, muscular arms hadn't caught up with him. Enjolras was now wedged against a powerful chest, he raised his head to see again her magnificent green eyes which were already watching him. When the man's gloved hand tucked one of his strands of blond hair back behind his ear, his hand lingered on Enjolras's cheek, the young man had to force himself to swallow the saliva that clumped in his mouth. 

"-Can… let go… me…? His friends would laugh at him if he saw him this way: stammering and searching for his words, he "the great speaker".

-Hm… Did you say something? Either the man was laughing at him, or he had not heard what Enjolras had just told him - as if the man could lose himself in his beauty, laughable - or either Enjolras was so badly expressed that the taller man hadn't understood him.

\- Could you please remove your arms from my body? Enjolras said the sentence much more slowly this time, not out of shyness but to be sarcastic.

-Oh! You should have said it earlier.

The man let him go and he was free again, Enjolras would be lying if he said he didn't already regret the other man's warmth.

-I did, sir, but you weren't listening to me.

-It's not my fault that I was taken in by so much beauty. The man smirked.

-So you think that if a person is beautiful, he cannot have an opinion, a thought, or just an intelligence? Enjolras crossed his arms over his chest and looked the man straight in the eye.

-Come on, Apollo, don't rewrite my words. All I said is that you are cute, especially when you blush and mumble words that have no sense.

Enjolras lost all hope of the man's intelligence and began to pick up his basket - again.

-First, sir, please do not call me "Apollo". And second, I don't blush.

-Yes, you did. Give me your name, then. I'll even give you mine if you want.

-No, I didn't. I was out of breath after walking through this forest with my injured ankle. And no, I don’t care, my lord. Keep your name to yourself and I'll keep mine.

He's out of the question for him to give his nickname to such a handsome stranger, what if he and his pals go into town and beg to know more about an "Enjolras"? No, out of the question.

-In addition, I have a long road ahead. Good-bye then."

Enjolras bowed, such a well-dressed man could only be a nobleman or a lord.

"-In that case. The stranger who had climbed back on his horse - how had he been so fast? - took the basket from Enjolras' hands and placed it on its saddle and gave his hand towards Enjolras -again. Come on, I don't bite, I promise. Well unless you ask me to.

-I can not.

-Why? It's getting late, your ... masters must be waiting for you.

-Just if he sees me on a nobleman's horse, they'll ...

-In that case, I will leave you at the edge of the woods, they won't see us.

The man had good arguments, but Enjolras was stubborn and made another attempt:

-I'll put dirt on your clothes

It's true, his rags consisted of a white shirt turning gray that was too big for him and brown pants patched all over. Not to forget the dust, soot, and soil that he accumulated while cleaning the manor, sleeping near the fireplace last night, and his fall a little rather. Gavroche was right he is dirty.

-Nonsense, I've already held you close, and look my clothes are still clean. Plus it's a horseback ride, I'm supposed to come home dirty. Come on now, I owe you this after I almost hit you with my horse. 

Enjolras finally accepted the stranger's outstretched hand and climbed up behind him. He wrapped his arms around the stranger's stomach - he had never ridden a horse before - and hid his face behind the man's back.

\- Look, you see? Enjolras made a little noise with his throat, asking for a silent “what”. You're blushing again. "

The young man gently slapped the man with one of his hands but the movement nearly knocked him down and the other man put his hand on Enjolras's to prevent them from falling. The Thenardiers' servant did not see the stranger signal to his friends to advance, all he felt was the horse beginning to advance, then to trot and finally to gallop. Enjolras suppressed his cry and latched onto the back of the man who laughed at the gesture.

As promised, the man left her at the edge of the woods. The nobleman had asked him his name again and Enjolras responded with a wink and motioned to the other five horsemen. He smiled on his way to the mansion when he heard the man call him "Apollo" again. Looking at the large clock in the living room, he saw that he had lost only 30 minutes, far less than he would have done without the stranger and his horse.

The Thenardiers did not notice his slightly happier look during the meal or his limp - although Eponine did - and the count only reprimanded him for Gavroche's disappearance. He had been running for the rest of the evening but all his tasks had been finished before the Earl and Countess's inspection. The couple quickly left for their apartment, leaving the younger ones alone. His two friends helped him with his evening chores, luckily the Count and Countess never knew, and Eponine questioned him relentlessly about this famous stranger and his friends. Enjolras gave her very little material so that she couldn't laugh at him.

It was very late when Enjolras went to bed that night, but at least tomorrow's breakfast was already ready - bowls, cups, and cutlery were on their trays - and supper too - soup. Since then, he had known how to organize himself not to have to do everything the next day and to be able to sleep a little more. The brother and his sister had already been in bed for two hours but they were both his supporters, without them, he is not sure he survived his endless days. Without Gavroche to make him laugh - discreetly - and to help him in a certain task without his parents seeing him do it or Eponine who always slipped him food when she could and who did most of the things alone - getting dressed, styling, and washing in particular. Enjolras fell asleep very quickly as usual but that night he fell asleep with a smile on his face, thinking back to "his stranger" and hoping in vain to see him again one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know yet when I'll have finished translating this fanfic but I hope soon enough. 
> 
> By the way, I do know which way the tale is supposed to go and that the prince is not supposed to know where Cinderella lives or that she is just a maid but the two information will have their importance in the future chapters. Also, I made the choice of a more mature fic than the Disney movie (the Charles Perault counts were mature enough) since that it is a mixt with Les Mis.


	3. A memorable night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter is out. Hope you'll like it. 
> 
> Now that France is once again confined, I'll have plenty of time for translating the rest of the fic once that my homework for the Uni will be done. The distance classes are always there to break the fun ^^. 
> 
> Stay safe ;-) 😷

The days passed and passed and passed ... Life continued in the village, the Thenardier swindled travelers, traders sold their goods, the market was crowded every day and the tavern every night. Enjolras' miserable life did not change, he got up every day before dawn, finished preparing breakfast, do his chores, came back for lunch, did his chores again, went to the market, serving the supper… again and again and again. Without forgetting the other tasks that the count and the countess entrusted to him, plus going to the quest of Gavroche every two minutes. His life was as good as it used to be which means not that good, it was getting almost monotonous in fact, he was getting no more blows than most other days, and the revolution was moving slowly but surely.

However, he was getting more and more desperate with each passing day. Did he hallucinate this stranger with his friends or had he been real? Were those eyes as green as the leaves of the trees in midsummer, or like the scaly storefront of the small village' bookseller, or like Madame Thénardier's green armchair? His face was starting to fade in his memory, he confused the stranger's laughter with the whisper of the wind, were his hands soft or callused? 

Enjolras was starting to lose his mind with all his questions but the one that arose the most was how he could be as obsessed with a man as he had only once for ten minutes? He was supposed to be stronger than that, he's stronger than that. His life is not like the tales that Eponine reads, it is real life, his miserable and unhappy life. Yet he was stuck on a faint ray of sunlight that brightened up his world for a fraction of a second. The stranger was like his sister. 

Was she even real? His heart told him yes, Eponine told him yes - and Gavroche answered that he didn't know anything about it, obviously since he was only a baby at that time - but his head and his common sense told him no. Courf had told him that maybe it had just been his brain that had invented a sister for him, someone he could rely on, make him feel less alone and loved. But, he's only memory slumps, was there really a body clinging to him at night? A little sister he had sworn to protect no matter what? Had there really been a heartbreaking goodbye or was she happy to have escaped far from the Thenardiers? The count and countess maintained that no, there had never been Cosette or an adult who had come to look for her, that it was only the pious dreams of a childish man. And despite what the others were telling him he was starting to believe them, of course, Enjolras knew they were lying as they breathed but if he was assuming that Cosette really existed then why hadn't she come for him? Had he been such a horrible brother?

He felt so lonely and sad even though Eponine, Gavroche, and his friends were there. Except for them, he was the infallible leader, strong and fiery, who never cried, who was not weak, or desperate to see a complete stranger again. But this stranger had been his ray of sunshine, his fragment of hope, and Enjolras wanted to keep this little moment of joy in his mind forever.

The young man returned to the present when he heard the count's voice shouting for his name. He hadn't heard it because Monsieur Thénardier was always and often shouting at him. Enjolras went straight to his majesty's office to see what he had done again to deserve the cane blows. 

As usual, Gérard Thénardier was slumped in his chair, his feet resting on the desk and a cigar in his mouth. The man-made no move of acknowledgment of Enjolras's presence in the room, although he knocked before entering. When the count had finished his cigar, he barked two orders at Enjolras, the latter accomplished his task and then left the devil's den as quickly as possible. The first order had been the banalest, to fill the glass of monsieur, because he was too lazy to catch the bottle of wine which was placed on his desk. Nevertheless, the second-order filled Enjolras's heart with joy: he had to take care of the tavern for some reason. His main innkeeper had fallen ill and the Earl could not take care of it since he had a "business night" planned.

Enjolras liked to take care of the tavern, he was far from the manor, did not have to do his evening tasks - exceptionally it was Eponine who had to take care of it - he could put on his one and most beautiful clothes and his friends were spending the evening at the tavern just for him - and who knows, he might have forgotten to charge them for a bottle or two, but he wasn't that strong on top of that after all and it's no big deal -more or less cane that was not going to hurt him. The only downsides were that he had to come home late at night - although Courfeyrac always brought him back with his cart - and that the next day, he had to do his morning chores and therefore had to get up at dawn. But if that was the price to pay for having an evening of freedom then he would pay the price.

The tavern opened its doors at 6:00 am sharp so an hour before, Enjolras washed and dressed. He almost felt like a normal human smelling lavender instead of soot and sweat or that lemon scent from the product he was using to mop the floor. Moreover, he was dressed practically like a count with his burgundy red jacket - although patched in one or two places - his pink-orange jacket, a white shirt - which suited him! -, black pants and boots of the same color. For once his hair was more or less styled thanks to Eponine having fun with it, she had almost managed to tie her hair up but he flatly refused. The few times he went to the tavern (once a month, two occasionally) were the only times he felt good, though he was still too skinny and bony with that filth that never seemed to go away completely.

Before he knew it, he was in front of the tavern and stepped in. To help him there was only Suzanne the waitress, who bore him a secret love, well not so secret as that. He had been serving customers for over two hours now, he had taken off his jacket which had started to clutter him up and his friends had arrived an hour before. Courf was, as usual, picking up as many women as possible - since his secret crush wasn't there- and Feuilly was telling him about his job, while Jehan was talking to an acquaintance. The evening was calm compared to other days or times when he had to play the apprentice innkeeper. It was a Monday at the end of the month, after all, residents had already been robbed on Saturday or Sunday and few would venture out at the sight of the downpour raging outside. So he didn't have to leave his post behind the bar very often.

Then two people came disturbed by the tranquility of the tavern, two travelers in fact, whom Enjolras did not see immediately since he had turned around to grab a bottle and serve Jehan who had returned, except that his gaze fell on the new ones. arrivals. New arrivals with their hoods down and their clothes soaked from the rain. They took off their hoods at the same time, but Enjolras’s gaze remained locked on one of the men… on the stranger… his stranger. With his curly hair going all over the place, his green eyes - definitely like summer tree leaves or grass - shining brightly, and his smile lit up when he saw him. Goddamn! It was the hand on his that made him look away and he forced himself to catch his breath - when had he stopped breathing? Apparently, because of his inattention, he had continued to pour the alcohol that spilled out of the glass now. 

"-Excuse me, I was distracted.

He apologized again, bending down to pick up a towel from under the bar. He prayed that the stranger and his friend, he had already seen him before, would go to the back of the tavern where Suzanne would take their order.

-So, are you hiding now? The stranger's voice was full of amusement.

Enjolras had forgotten for a second that none of his wishes had ever come true, so why would it have started now?

-I'm not hiding, my Lord, I was grabbing a towel.

When the innkeeper got up, he came face to face with the stranger who had leaned over the bar to get a better look at him. He pretended to ignore it and cleaned up his mess. Hoping that his friends won't mention the incident.

-You see, began Feuilly, my dear friend behind this bar was so distracted that he inadvertently continued to fill my already full glass and created this incident.  


This comment made Jehan and the two strangers laugh. Obviously, his friends would laugh at him, and seeing how it went, the four would soon make an alliance against him. All that was missing was Courf and that would be the end of it for him.

-And by what were you so distracted, Apollo? his stranger asked him, raising his eyebrows.

-By the mud that you put everywhere on my floor.

-I wouldn't say what but who, replied Jehan at the same time, who winked at the man with the green eyes.

-Apollo? asked Feuilly.

-That's how he decided to call your friend since he refuses to tell him his name.

Another burst of general laughter, God, the night was going to be long.

-If you are not going to consume, I will ask you to leave.

-Come on, Apollo doesn't pout, of course that we're going to consume. Four glasses of wine for us and your friends, would that be okay?

\- Perfectly splendid.

He took out two glasses, filled them, and gave them towards the two travelers and then filled those of his friends once they had finished theirs.

-My name is Jean Prouvaire and he's Feuilly, and you gentlemen?

-You can call me, R.

\- "R"? It's a letter, not a first name, laughed Enjolras.

-Well, my first name comes down to a letter. But I'm sure yours is much better.

-Hm, well-tried. And you, sir, is your first name also summed up by a letter?

-No, he laughs, my name is Marius. "

Enjolras didn't really listen to the conversation anymore, the regulars of the tavern had just arrived and monopolized all his time, he only heard them when they were laughing. He was sure that Jehan and Feuilly were already telling the most humiliating stories about him. The young man no longer really saw the time passed, probably forty minutes or even an hour and was only allowed to take a break when Courfeyrac returned to the bar, no doubt attracted by the bursts of laughter from the other four.

"-Enj! There are some of the most wonderful girls in the world in this tavern! Courf looked at whom his friends were talking to. Who are your new friends?  


He handed a glass to Courf who was already engaged in a conversation with Marius and their two friends, his older friend didn't really need an answer. R was looking at him intensely. Enjolras felt his cheeks blush, against his will, and he raised an eyebrow.

-Mystery solved! I finally have the end of the story, your name is "Ange".

Enjolras leaned over the bar.

-No Sir. "Ange" is not my name or the name of anyone in this room.

-Disappointing, he looked so good on you. So, what is it then: André? Antoine…? Julien!

-Julien doesn't even start with the proper syllable.

-Sure, but there is a "J" in it. 

-God, you're maddening! Enjolras rolled his eyes.

-That's what people often say about me. Do you know what I am often told too? That I'm stubborn, so it would be faster if you told me your first name.

-That's true, declared Marius as if he had listened to their entire conversation.

-Come on, tell me, otherwise, I should keep calling you Ange.

-…

-Fine my first name is Enjolras, my Lord.

He expected R to laugh at him but instead, the man looked at him with that intense gaze he gave her every time.

-You see it wasn't that hard, Ange.

-No, sir, it's Enjolras, not Ange.

-Whatever you say, Ange.

-Repeat after me: Anh-Jol-RasE.

-Anh-Geuh.

-Urgh drop it! "

The innkeeper took a glass that a regular had handed him to fill it with beer. Then he went out to grab a bucket and proceeded to clean up the floor since that the mud was now dry mud since neither he nor Suzanne had bothered to clean it until then. Enjolras didn't have time to take care of his friends or Marius and R anymore because of his job and it was probably better that way. The man was as charming as he was infuriating and Enjolras secretly loved this not that he would one day admit it.

It was getting late, most of the people had returned home except the most drunk from whom Enjolras should eventually force them to leave. He waited a little longer, then asked the less drunk to come out while Suzanne cleaned the tables. Courf had left some time ago with two women under his arm, but he would be back in about 30 minutes to bring him back to the mansion. Jehan had also left, there was nothing left but Marius who was waiting for his friend who did not seem to be leaving here soon - he will let him stay until he has to close - and Feuilly who remained until that he was sure that everything would be fine.

Enjolras took a deep breath and went to the table of the drunkest people. Obviously, he was a great speaker but how do you talk to people who weren't even listening to you? He ordered them to leave with all the conviction and authority he had. Except that he realized two things too late: firstly, they were bigger than him - which is not very complicated - and secondly, they are friends of the Earl. Friends who knew the conditions he was living under and who knew they could push him aside without retaliation. Two of them laughed at him, considering his status as a servant, the third was half-dead on the table and the last had a carnivorous grin on his face.

The younger man didn't quite understand what had just happened, except that he was now in the fourth's lap and the older man was keeping him pressed against him with one hand behind his lower back and the other on his thigh. The Earl's friend, Mr. Trémaine, began to place kisses on his neck and whisper dirty words in his ear. Enjolras blushed - not as he blushed because of R but with anger this time - and he tried to push the man away by placing his hands on the older man's chest and trying to push. Except he wasn’t strong enough and he was starting to panic.

Without warning a hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and he was pulled out of Trémaine's knees to be forced behind someone's back. The back of R, he realized, seeing the mop of black hair and the arm that kept him hidden from the man's sight. R pulled out a dagger and pointed it under the throat of the attacker of Enjolras and the nobleman threatened the older man. The latter seemed surprised but laughed, he threw a purse on the table and ordered his friends to follow him, while promising Enjolras that the count would hear about it.

The tavern was now partially empty with only five people inside. R turned to Enjolras and took him in his arms. Although the young man was not crying, he leaned back against the strong, warm chest, careless of what this would make him look like. He was too obsessed in his quest for comfort to care about that. He finally recovered after five minutes and cleared his throat. 

"You shouldn't have done that, sir.

-You can't be serious! Did you see how he was… holding you? As if he owns you? The nobleman spat the word out, indignant because he had just seen it.

-He does own me! Not directly, of course, but he does! I am not an innkeeper, I am a servant and he is a friend of… my… my master. So it's just as if.

\- You would have let him do what he wanted? You? What would have happened if I or Feuilly wasn't there to stopped him? Where's the spirited, committed person your friends have told me so much about for the past few hours? Me who thought you believed in justice and respect for others. 

\- They didn't lie to you, my lord, I believe so. I believe in the equality of peoples, that the king is worth nothing without the peasants and that the poor can have more heart and common sense than lords hungry for power and luxury. But all these fine words are worth nothing to me and they will not save me from the count's wrath when he'll hear what just happened. And it's bold of you to think that this is the first time that Trémaine does something like that. I know the general belief is that I can't take care of myself but I can handle myself very well, thank you a lot. 

The stranger looked shocked at Enjolras's words but quickly recovered.

-I never meant that you couldn't take care of yourself. Even though your friends might have mentioned it once or twice. But let me save you, at least from the punishment you risk to receive because of this son of a pig.

-Why would you do it? Your Grace surely has more to do than take care of a common peasant.

-Are you still so stubborn? Why don't you let me help you?

-Once again: because he has no sense of self-preservation, intervened Feuilly, he is ready to give his life for any of his friends but refuses to be faced with the same treatment. Don't ever cross his path when he is sick, he becomes a living nightmare. 

-That's true, added Suzanne, who had just finished cleaning the tables. It's impossible to make him stop working or resting when he is sick. But seriously, go to sleep Enj, and I won't take "no" as an answer, or tomorrow I'll warn Eponine that you refused to have common sense about your health, again. "

He nodded, suddenly too tired to protest -and he knew that he was not in a position to win with four people against him-, the whole tavern was already cleaned and Feuilly, with the help of Marius, had already put the stools on the tables.

Enjolras put on his red coat and locked the door to the tavern after everyone was out. He was going to wait for Courfeyrac, luckily the rain had stopped, when R told him that his friend was not coming back. Apparently, the Lord had promised to bring him back to the mansion. The latter rode him in front of his horse this time, claiming that he did not want his Ange to fall during his sleep. So, for the second time of the night, he was pressed against the older man's chest and as expected, he fell asleep. 

The young man was awakened by a hand touching his cheek and a voice at his ear telling him they had arrived. He nodded, too tired to speak, and placed a kiss on his stranger's cheek. The man got off the horse first to help Enjolras to go down, taking his hand. The nobleman didn't let go of her until he kissed it. Enjolras blushed a dark red, thankfully hidden by the darkness of the night, and waved his hand towards Marius who had accompanied them.

The servant placed the key to the tavern on the cabinet near Monsieur Thénardier's office. He slowly went up the stairs leading to his attic and collapsed into his bed without undressing.

It wasn't until the next morning, after he was awakened, that Enjolras realized he had kissed the nobleman on the cheek, it was so inappropriate and unconventional. The servant's cheeks turned red just thinking about it. In fact, those cheeks turned as red as his coat when he saw the paper slipped in one of the pockets. It was a drawing of him, done quickly and crudely, but it was clearly recognizable although it was drawn much more beautiful than it was. There was something written on the back: "By the way, I like your name, it's original, like you. –R ”. 

Enjolras was definitely going to remember that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The costume that Enjolras wears in this fic is the first he wears in Les Mis of 2012. If you want to have a better view of the outfit, here is the link: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fbr.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F625085623263813575%2F&psig=AOvVaw2Qv0amSAlS535h1Jg8hQxh&ust=1604757372142000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCIjW0d-J7uwCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAJ (He's too cute ❤) 
> 
> ** The "perfectly splendid" is a sentence from the Haunting of Bly Manor. Flora said it too many times and it's now stuck in my mind, so, I had to use it at least once here. (Did you watch this series??) 
> 
> *** The "Anh-Jol-RasE" comes from an interview with Aaron Tveit about how to say Enjolras properly. He said it like that but in fact, the "E" is not supposed to be heard but anyway it's not a big deal (The good pronunciation is Anh-Jol-Ras). Same thing with Ange (Angel) it's not "Anh-geuh" (I exaggerated the pronunciation) but "Anj". The video is quite funny and you can easily found it on YTB.


	4. Holiday feeling under the apple trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the waiting.

Since that night at the tavern, Enjolras has been waiting for the backlash, except that he never comes. He received no blows, was not deprived of food, nothing ... Only the fact that the Thenardiers seemed angrier with him and had inflicted on him dirty jobs - such as cleaning the chimneys - in which professionals were normally employed, proved him that the count and countess were aware of the little "incident". Enjolras was sure of it, the noble, his foreigner, R, must have sent a letter to the Thenardiers explaining the situation to them. On the one hand, he was angry with the nobleman for doing such a thing, for saving him like he was a damsel in distress, but on the other hand, this action had saved him from being seriously punished. His body would have remembered that for sure.

However, while they didn't touch him, that didn't stop them from insulting him at every opportunity. Small things at the start, then more and more frequently and more and more hurtful words. They dared to laugh at his nickname when it was they who forced him to call himself that. They gave him more and more tasks to do in a shorter and shorter time. The count even made him go to the neighboring village for a frivolous run. They invited Mr. Trémaine and his wife to dinner, what a coincidence and the man forced him to pick up his fork which had fallen to the ground to see him kneel in front of him. Then, the Thenardiers seemed to forget the noble's letter since they started hitting him again and found some excuses to force him to go to bed without eating and they even went so far as to watch Eponine carefully so that she could not give him food.

For example, today the countess forced him to fetch apples in the orchard. Except that Madame had no knowledge of fruit and vegetables or, if she went out a little bit more out of the mansion to check the condition of the orchard, then she would know that the apples weren't growing in October. Unfortunately, she didn't - or maybe she did and that was why she had specifically asked him for the ones in the orchard - and he had to go find the non-existent ones in the orchard. 

Obviously, he could have gone to the market to buy some, she will never have known but with what money?

Enjolras quickly arrived at the orchard, cutting through the wood. The twelve apple trees in the orchard were starting to lose their leaves because of the cold. The young man looked desperately to see if there was not an apple, at least one, attached to an apple tree. But no, there wasn't. And all the ones on the floor were half rotten and half-eaten up by worms. Enjolras sat down against one of the apple trees and had a very mature reaction, one that only great leaders can have: he wept. He was on the verge of exhaustion and he didn't even know how his eyes could still stay open, his stomach had stopped crying out for hunger when he realized that he would not have anything to eat by then, his back ached every time he walked, he was cold, with the addition of the perpetual verbal abuse and the news that the Thenardiers' eldest daughter was coming back soon. It was too much for the young man who finally let go of all the pain he kept inside him. O hell, the fearless leader, Enjolras was just a 16-year-old already fed up with life. 

Tears streamed down his cheeks like waterfalls, horrible sobs tore her throat out and the air in her lungs grew thinner and thinner.

Suddenly, the sound of a broken branch echoed like a thunder shot through the apple tree since before only the sobs of Enjolras could be heard in the orchard which was no longer so empty. The young man looked up as if he had been caught in the act of theft, but the tears continued to roll down his cheeks and the sob stuck in his throat. He didn't even try to get up, knowing his legs wouldn't be able to keep up. Enjolras hoped it wasn't Eponine or Gavroche or his friends, who thought of him as a strong and unbreakable leader. 

"-Apollo! Are you here? Courfeyrac was kind enough to tell me where I could find you.

Enjolras tried to say the other man's name or at least his title but the words got stuck in his throat and a sob came out instead.

\- You're not even here, are you? I am talking on my own once again...

The footsteps that had come closer to him stopped and then turned around. The young man concentrated on at least getting out a word, he wanted the nobleman to find him to comfort him, he wanted to be in his stranger's arms again.

-… R…!

Tears started to flow again, blurring her vision and small sounds of pain were coming out of her throat. His lungs were on fire.

-Is it you, Ange? Footsteps returned in his direction. Don't tell me you're… crying…?

Enjolras only vaguely saw the noble standing in front of him before hearing the sound of rushing footsteps, feeling strong arms touching his shoulders, and soft - but strong - hands holding his cheeks, forcing his gaze into those green's eyes. 

-P-please ...

To be honest, he didn't even knew what exactly he was asking for. Please: help me? Please: don't look at me like that? Please: take me away from here? Please: do something? Anything. But he didn't need to elaborate, the nobleman who had sat on the orchard lawn - when had he? - grabbed him by the hips and made him sit on his laps. Enjolras blushed at the awkward posture he was in, but he quickly hides his head in the crook of his savior's neck, and clutched the other man's jacket in a tight grip, too afraid that the man would run away if he let go. Strong and comforting arms brought him even closer than before.

-Oh… Ange… that did they do to you?

The question was rhetorical but Enjolras answered it anyway by crying even harder.

-It's okay, I'm here, you'll be fine, I promise. "

It seemed like an eternity before the sobs that shook Enjolras' body died down. Although it hadn't been more than ten minutes. The last tears finally flowed but the young man remained in the embrace of the nobleman who did not let him go. Enjolras let go of R's jacket anyway and wrapped his arms around the stranger's neck and removed his head from the soaked area for replacement on the other side of the man's neck. The two men didn't move, too happy to be in the other's arms.

R only moved to place a kiss on Enjolras temple and to run his hand through the blond curls of the man on his lap who responded with a happy little breath.  
It had been a long time since no one had touched him so softly and kindly, as if he was loved - not to mention Eponine who loved him like her brother or Gavroche's quick hugs. The young man could have fallen asleep like that, but a voice brought him back to earth.

"-Hm? What did you say, my Lord?

The nobleman let out an exasperated breath at the title but did not mention it, ask a servant to stop saying royal titles would be like asking a nobleman to stop wearing luxury clothes.

-What happened, Ange? R's voice was harsh as if he was ready to make the person who had hurt Enjolras pay, but it was still soft when he spoke to her.

-Nothing… He avoided the look the other man gave him. Everything… I don't know… It's an accumulation of several little things, I guess.

Enjolras blushed when a new kiss was placed on his temple.

-Do you feel better now?

\- Thanks to you, Sir. Well, for now.

-What do you want to say?

-Madame the countess ordered me to go get apples in the orchard.

-But there cannot be an apple in an orchard at this time of year.

-Exactly.

\- Hm… I know! Enjolras raised his head to look at the nobleman. Guess that old hag can't tell the difference between an apple from the orchard and one bought from the market. He nodded. So just buy some!

-I-I thought about it… Enjolras blushed under the man's gaze. But I have no money.

-If that's all that's bothering you, I'll go buy you some!

The man was looking at him with a smile as if it was that easy and maybe it was, for him.

-I am not begging for charity!

-I know, I know and I'm not offering it to you. In fact, it would help me if you said yes.

-How could that help you? Appart empty your pockets too full.

-It would help me because it makes me sad to see you in this state.

-That's a stupid reason.

-Listen, I get it, you're stubborn and I'm stubborn, which definitely doesn't go together. Except you need his apples and I have the money to buy them for you. So I'm going to go to the market to buy them from you and then come back here to give them to you and you will stay here, sulking and cursing me for being a boor. Are you okay with that?

-… I suppose. But it still does not please me!

-I expected no less from you. "

The two men had to reluctantly let go. Before leaving, the nobleman gave his jacket to Enjolras who was trembling with cold. Then he was gone. The young man waited by the tree, surrounded by his stranger's warm coat and sniffing, more or less openly, the scent that permeated the emerald green jacket. R returned quickly, leaving Enjolras guessing how fast the nobleman forced his horse to go and handed him his basket full of apples to the young servant who took it at the same time as he returned the jacket to his owner. Before he could leave, the nobleman forced him to eat at least three of the apples, then placed a kiss on Enjolras' hand and the older man smirked at the blushes on his Apollo's cheeks.

“Ange! Hold on!" The blond-man turned around. "Am I not receiving a kiss this time? "

Enjolras said nothing, blushed even harder than before and took small steps towards the nobleman then placed a slobbery kiss on the nobleman's cheek. The latter recoiled, placed his hand on his cheek to remove the drooling, and burst out laughing.

On returning to the manor, the servant was scolded, and knocked, having taken an hour to fetch apples but neither the count nor the countess made the difference between what should have been apples from the orchard and what were apples bought at the market.

This kind of event only had happened twice more during the month of October, Enjolras would have used the pretext of apples but the countess's desire for fruit had suddenly changed, and the one of having Gavroche studying in the orchard was not usable because of the cold coming slowly but surely. His moments were refreshing for the young man, a way to forget the mansion for a twenty-minute and that the nobleman gave him his full attention - although the two argued for five minutes each time.

Finally, came the moment that Enjolras had been waiting for since he heard the news: the Thenardiers were both leaving for Le Havre to get their eldest daughter: Azelma. Of course, the thought of having this plague at home didn't make him happy at all, it was her who gave him the nickname, but this week is going to be like a vacation. Gavroche could go where he wanted when he wanted - as long as he comes back home before sunset - and Eponine could go see his friends. Enjolras would not have to do that much of chores since that the two brothers and sisters knew how to take care of themselves. They would have breakfast together and then all leave to do their own things. The servant could devote himself to advancing the revolution without having to worry about the prying eyes of the count and countess. Obviously, this week would also be a good time to spend more time with the noble to whom he had, of course, announced the news.

The Thenardiers left the night before under the false warm goodbye of their children. And they only shouted instructions to Enjolras. The three young people ate whatever they wanted in the living room, laughing and exclaiming as loudly as they wanted since there were no other servants in the mansion. That night, Enjolras had enough eaten, his jaw hurt from laughing too much, had already distributed his chores on his schedule, and was lucky to be able to sleep in a real bed and not in the sort of straw mattress he usually sleeps on. The next morning, as usual, Enjolras woke up at dawn but instead of having to get out of bed, he took the opportunity to read, and when he had read a good twenty pages, he went downstairs to bake the breakfast for the three of them. In the morning, he went to Courfeyrac's, and Jehan and Feuilly met him there. All four spoke of the plan for the revolution against the Thenardiers but it did not go very far, none of them agreeing on the way forward but all agreed not to want to kill the Thenardiers if they could avoid it. The goal was to dethrone them after all. 

Then he came back to the mansion and ate with Eponine, Gavroche being nowhere to be found, and the latter had a small smile on the corner of her lips, signifying that she knew something he didn't know. He knew better than to ask her what was going on. In the early afternoon, Enjolras did all his chores for the day and it was only towards the end of the afternoon and that the sun was starting to set that he was cut off his current task.

As he had just stood up after mopping the floor, a pair of arms wrapped around his slender frame, lifted him up, and spun him around. Enjolras will deny the little cry he did. He let himself go knowing who owned the arms and the laughter, as well as the chest. Finally, his feet were allowed to touch the ground again, and he turned around to see the face of his stranger - who was no longer an actual stranger.

Enjolras looked at Eponine who was writhing in laughter behind the door. Apparently, the young woman already knew that the nobleman was to come today to make him the surprise. However, he had no idea how the two had made to team-up against him.

The servant abandoned his chores for the day, preferring to spend it in the company of R. The latter was shocked to learn that Enjolras did not know how to dance the waltz and began to teach him under the gaze of Eponine who tried not to laugh at him. It was a magical moment when Enjolras finally understood how the waltz worked, but that moment was shattered when Gavroche arrived, his boots full of mud, and asked them what they were up to. The nobleman stayed for supper and was able to taste the dish prepared by Enjolras but had to leave immediately afterward.

The rest of the week was just idyllic. Enjolras was able to make up for significant hours of sleep and regain strength by eating properly, was able to finish two books from the library, and spend most of his time with his friends, his little two-member family, and his nobleman - as Eponine liked to call R. Strangely enough, the latter integrated easily into their family, although he only had come three days of the week and only stayed a few hours each time because apparently, he had noble's duties to fulfilled. But at least the two men had got to know each other a little more better, and R had several good glimpses of the ideologies of Enjolras, who flared up three or four times on subjects close to his heart. 

Like all good things, the vacation came to an end.

He spent the Saturday making the mansion as presentable as possible with the help of his friends and family. Courfeyrac and Feuilly cut as much wood as possible for the fireplaces, since winter was beginning to make itself felt and by putting most of it in the kitchen, Jehan had taken care of the ground floor - by making the steps of the porch shine, same thing for the ground of the entrance and of the dining room, Gavroche took care of the barn with the horses making sure everything was spotless, and Eponine took care of the bedrooms - airing them, waxing some floors that really needed it and changed the sheets on all the beds. Enjolras took care of controlling all these lovely people, wanting everything to be perfect for the arrival of the Thenardiers, and prepared supper for five. 

The Earl and Countess thought they were smarter than him, thought they could fool him by telling him that they would come back on Sunday when in fact they would be back late this Saturday. His friends left in the middle of the afternoon, although they protested strongly, telling him that they could stay a little longer, even if it meant hiding when the Thenardiers arrived, but Enjolras did not want to give his masters any chance of not no longer trust him in the future to be alone again. He did the same with his siblings, ordering them to go wash and dress appropriately - much to Gavroche's dismay who forced Enjolras to help him wash, the bathroom looked like an ice rink at the end - for the arrival of the Thenardiers.

The servant pretended to be surprised when he saw the Thenardiers arriving late that evening with Azelma in tow. At that moment, he was pretending to clean the windows - already cleaned by Gavroche and Jehan earlier this morning - while waiting for their arrival. He proliferated heaps of sentences suggesting his surprise as he helped the driver get all the suitcases he had to bring inside alone into the manor. The Thenardiers found their two younger children in the music room, Eponine singing and playing the piano and Gavroche drawing on her little desk not far from the piano. Perhaps the scene was a little too overdone, they had even lit the fire in the room, but the adults didn't notice it except maybe Azelma who looked him up and down in disgust. Enjolras had managed to get dirty enough to appear neglected but not enough to be criticized.

From now on, everything will become more dangerous. Berner the Thenardiers had become easy over time but fooling Azelma would be much harder. The older sister could saw and knew everything that happened inside the manor and seemed to have no faith in Enjolras - which was arguably valid. But even she did not know that the fire of the revolution was coming closer and closer. 

Within a week, Enjolras and his friends had succeeded in spreading the word throughout the village that the revolution was near enough. Also, he and Eponine had finally been able to enter the count's office to find suspicious elements and against the monarchy. Everyone was ready to follow him - although he was only a 16-year-old servant - and they were all waiting for his signal.

The only thing he lacked was the opportunity that would soon arrive, in the form of a letter.


	5. The ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I guess everyone who knows Cinderella was waiting for this chapter, so here it is.

The letter was simple, white with cursive green writings, but still of good quality with paper that probably cost more than Enjolras' clothes. The latter had a strange impression in holding this envelope which the postman had just given him but he could not admire it for too long, it was addressed to the Count and the Countess, not to him. Strangely, the mail was never addressed to him. He went to give it to his masters who were in the drawing-room, with their three children. 

A quasi reign of terror had taken hold of the mansion since Azelma's return, she was far from being as stupid as her parents and she watched everything and everyone. Poor Gavroche could no longer even sneak out, Eponine could no longer take care of herself as she used to, and Enjolras could no longer secretly pass her little words on to the village as he had to hurry around. 

The servant could only hear the contents of the letter when hidden behind the door of the living room, the words were interspersed since the Countess did not always speak very clearly, but Enjolras understood the essentials: the king and queen organized a ball in honor of their son to find him a wife or a husband - the royalty wasn't really demanding about the gender-, that all the inhabitants of the province were invited on the sole condition that they were major. The young man's heart flowed to his words since he was not major and could not go to the ball, not that the Thénardiers would have let him go anyway. He then went back to his chores since he had nothing else better to do. 

The only good news that the invitation brought to the young man was that the Thénardiers had to go to Paris to get dressed for the ball in less than a week. And Azelma as the conductor of all the preparation no longer had much time to look at what Enjolras was doing. He used the general effervescence to go to the orchard and meet his nobleman. The man was already waiting for him under one of the apple trees, something seemed to trouble him but what? 

Enjolras had not even arrived near the nobleman, whom he had already given him a letter while asking him, enthusiastically, to open it. He did what R asked him to do, without fighting for once, and he already knew what he would find when he opened that letter. 

The paper was simple and white with cursive green handwriting on it. The only difference this letter had with the one at the mansion was that it was addressed directly to him. His nickname had never seemed so pretty to him before. The invitation contained the same words that the Countess had said except for the mention at the bottom which ordered the guards to let him pas. There is also the royal seal on it. 

"-I-I don't know what to say... Enjolras remained fixed on the invitation in his hands. 

-A simple "thank you" would suffice. 

-That's not what I had in mind. Rather: how and why? 

-What do you mean? 

-How did you get an invitation with the royal seal on it? And why give it to me? 

-Well you're not major, so I thought that with this invitation you could go to the ball and that we could dance the waltz. My courses have to be profitable. R winked at him. And for the how... You really don't know? 

-What do I don't know? asked Enjolras since he didn't understand what R wanted to say. 

-That... I... am a friend of the prince...? The nobleman scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. 

-Well, I can't know it if you don't tell me, Sir. 

-You're not wrong. 

-When would I ever be wrong? 

-Don't be too full of yourself, Ange. 

-I can't help it. He smiled, but then he remembered what Azelma asked him to do before she had left, and his smile had faded. I-I... I forgot to wax the stairs! I have to go! » 

As usual, now, Enjolras placed a kiss on the nobleman's cheek and ran off through the woods. If Azelma came back to see that he didn't wax the stairs as she had asked him it would go very wrong... But the young man did not complain, having a new reason to be happy: the prince's friend wanted to dance with him at a ball... ball to which he had no clothes to wear... 

Enjolras hide the invitation in the hole where a parquet latte could be moved in his attic and went to wax the stairs. 

What the nobleman did not know, however, was that he had not only offered a dance to the servant but had also offered an opportunity to the revolutionary. He and his friends had been looking for a third solution instead of creating some kind of barricade in front of the mansion. Now all they had to do was to go to the palace through the invitations and bring this revolution to the king himself.

"-But come on, Enj, it's madness! whispered hurriedly Courfeyrac. 

-You can't go to the ball without being an adult! continued Jean Prouvaire. 

-What if the king refuses to listen to you? What if he'd rather believe Thénardier rather than you? added Feuilly. 

-Calm down, guys, I know what I'm doing. Enjolras slammed his invitation on the table of the tavern where he had to work that evening. R gave it to me yesterday, he added before one of his friends could say anything. And if he refuses to listen to me then I will force him or anyone else to do so. 

-The prince will be as useful as he is drunk, and your nobleman will not be able to save your butt as beautiful as they are. 

-Courf, can you stop talking about my butt? The older man nodded at him. So you're with me? Yes or no. 

-Of course!

-You know very well that we are! 

-What if you die? asked Feuilly. 

-So be it! I will become a symbol and I will show the Thenardier that I have never been afraid of them, it will already be a victory and then you will be there to continue the rest. 

The other three men did not like this answer, but they nodded. 

-S-if something happens to me, whether I am taken prisoner or whatever... don't try to save me, okay? Take care of Eponine and Gavroche that's all I ask..."

The three men were going to protest loudly as if they would not try to save him if they could, but their intrepid leader had just climbed onto the tavern bar to begin his speech. All the potential allies of the Count and countess were not there tonight, all too busy getting ready to come here and drink. Enjolras made a loud noise with his boot to get everyone's attention. 

"-It's been a year now! One year since the day we sent a letter to the mayor of Paris, to Mr. Fauchelevent. We asked for his help, explaining to him the situation and giving him many examples of the tyranny that the Thénardiers put us through. They, our dear count and countess who plunder our fields, our hard-earned money and treat us as if we were worth less than dirt on their shoes. You trusted me and my friends to get us out of this situation so that the Thénardiers would receive a taste of their own medicine. Except that you have been let down, I have let you down, you who have supported us when it has been more than 16 years that you have endured this treatment, you who trusted me despite my young age. Except that today, today, the wind of revolt is lifted! Our flag flies high in the sky, don't you see it? Rising above the Thenardier's mansion and ready to fall upon them as the veil of our vengeance. And this is thanks to the whim of the prince. Enjolras raised his invitation to the ball. I will go to this ball, speak to the royalty itself and they will have no choice but to listen to me, listen to you, listen to us! Who's with me?! 

The crowd stood up and banged their fists on the table, exclaiming, "ME!" 

-Who's with me?! Enjolras raised the glass that Suzanne had just tendered to her. 

-ME! » 

That evening, the tavern had never sold that much of bottles, although some "disappeared" miraculously. 

The end of the week was strange, the air was filled with this weird energy like a summer week before a storm. A storm, very, very big. In the village, the word was passed: prepare you for Saturday, either the result will be incredibly good or it will be incredibly bad. In both cases, the people had to be ready. But everyone was on their guard. It was inconceivable for the Thénardier' to understand what was going to happen to them. And Enjolras had to be even more discreet than usual, and much more helpful and polite than before. Of course, his own behavior disgusted him, him who had so many beliefs and certainties had to bow to the will of his masters. Even Eponine and Gavroche were quiet, both of whom were filled with excitement for the upcoming revolution -Enjolras had tried to keep them at bay but he would have had a better chance of convincing them than getting one of the apple trees in the orchard to start talking. 

Finally, the big day finally arrives. On the Saturday of the ball where the prince would marry one of their daughters as the Thénardier called it. On the Saturday of the ball where the king will listen to his people as Enjolras and the rest of the village called it. This day was even more filled with this strange energy than the other days, but the servant tried not to change his habits.

He got up early that morning—it could no longer be said that he was getting up before dawn since the sun was only rising late in the morning—especially to warm up in front of the stove's fire, finished preparing breakfast, and went to serve, exceptionally, all the inhabitants of the manor in their beds- order of the Countess. Then he resumed his usual chores, which were numerous that day, since the Thénardiers were waiting for the prince to come, until lunch where his masters ate at the dining-room table this time. His usual routine ended there. 

Instead of his chores, he had to, first, help everyone to bathe, to his greatest misfortune since the count had no notion of modesty. Then, Enjolras had to help everyone get dressed: first men and then women. For the count, he had to listen to him debate the choice of colors of his clothes, in comparison, Gavroche was easier to dress even when he refused to wear a suit. But the servant managed to get the count and his son ready. 

Then comes the women's turn. First, to help them put those species of iron cages - which looked more like torture tools according to Enjolras and he had to avoid laughing too much when he saw the snarling air of Eponine - then it was the turn of the dresses - bright pink for Madame, bright green for Mademoiselle and dark purple for Eponine. The young man certainly wasn't very objective, but for him, his sister was the most beautiful, her dress was simple but elegant and fit her complexion. Not like the neon pink meringue worn by the Countess, or Azelma's fashion-minded dress, "the prince's favorite color, you idiot!" Enjolras had the fleeting thought that the eyes of his nobleman were much prettier than this sickly green. Then came the shoes, easy task, except that he had to kneel each time to put them at the feet of the three women -his friend was the only one to have a face of disgust at this kind of behavior. Enjolras had to style them to the best of his abilities which had become very good since time. And finally came the accessories, so many accessories: necklaces, rings, bracelets, tiaras, bags... It took three hours-three hours! - to get everyone ready. 

Everybody... Well, except for him. He had only his deformed rags and the clothes he put on to go to the tavern, which must be smelling the alcohol. This is how he will look like when he goes to the ball to talk to the king: a street-rat, a servant, and a less than nothing. But his words were who he really was.  
The ball was scheduled for 7 pm - a banquet being planned - and it took only thirty minutes to get to Paris and another 10 to arrive in front of the castle. Since all the Thénardiers were dressed an hour in advance, Gavroche asked his parents for Enjolras to have some free time since he did not have to prepare the evening supper and had helped them all to dress in record time. Mr. and Mrs. gave him a bad look before nodding and telling him not to get off his attic until the next morning, except to eat what he had prepared for him, which he obviously did not do, but he had kept the leftovers of their lunch -not that they were aware of that.

So he went into his cold attic which was not at all isolated for such cold temperatures but he was used to that kind of cold temperatures by now and besides, it was only November, the worst would be to come. If he could, Enjolras would have collapsed on his bed to sleep until the next morning but he could not fall asleep so he began to repeat his speech which had to be perfect, and to check that everything was ready. 

The young man could not prove to have sent many letters to the mayor, but he would have the support of the people. 

He was stopped in his thoughts by footsteps behind the door of his attic and was able to catch his breath when he heard Eponine's voice. Enjolras told her to go back downstairs but he had to stop his laugh when he saw her walking in this outfit. 

"-God! It's awfully cold out here! She passed her arms around her to warm up. 

-It's not that bad yet. But shouldn't you be downstairs? Imagine if the Thénardiers come here. 

Eponine gave him a sharp look. 

-They never go up here, moreover, Gavroche covers me downstairs. 

-Don't tell me I'm going to have to give him a bath again... 

-No, no. She laughs. He just has to ask them about a lot of things. Not to mention that by tonight, we will have nothing to fear from them. Speaking of tonight, are you really going to go there dressed like that? 

-Well... it's that or clothes that stink of cheap alcohol, I would at least have more credibility dressed like this. And neither Jehan, Courf, nor Feuilly have my waist or cleaner clothes. 

-In this case, it's a good thing that your nobleman is so foresighted, isn't it? She gave him her famous look while pretending to be interested in something else. 

-R? He got up out of bed. What do you mean? Come on, spit it out! I know when you're hiding things from me!

-Your nobleman, the one you never stop talking about, you may or may not have left a surprise at the foot of one of the apple trees yesterday. And Gavroche may or may not have found it and taken it discreetly here. » 

Eponine pulled out a bundle from behind one of the boxes that littered the back of the attic since his room also served as storage. The package was simple, a large piece of simple fabric packing an unknown content with two strings to hold everything. A word had been slipped between the two strings: "For Apollo, -R." The young woman urged him to open the package, which he eagerly did. When the two young men removed the piece of cloth, they discovered a coat as red as blood, it was so splendid that Enjolras hesitated before touching the fabric which was soft but heavy for cold weather. Then comes a shirt of immaculate whiteness, a jacket as black as the night itself, trousers and a tie of the same color, and a red scarf too. Enjolras swallowed up when he saw so much lust in front of him. 

"-I-I can't wear this... 

-Don't be an idiot, Enj! You deserve it and it is a gift, imagine the disappointed face that your nobleman will have when you see you not wearing the outfit he has chosen for you. 

-But... 

-There are no "but" that hold! Think two seconds, even if you have a special invitation, do you really think the guards will let you through the gates of the castle dressed like that? 

-... 

-In this case, it's all seen. Come on, try them! » 

The young man did what had just been asked of him, he went to a small corner of his room where there was a small seal of water and he began to wash as best he could. When he was more or less satisfied, Enjolras put the clothes, which were soft and comfortable to wear. Moreover, they suited him perfectly, which made him wonder when the nobleman had time to measure him. He came out of his little hiding place to show the result to Eponine, who looked astonished to see him dressed like this, although she quickly recovered to hug him. Both looked like nobles dressed as they were. 

Her friend could not stay long since the carriage was soon coming, he watched her try to go down the stairs without falling. It was a pretty funny show to watch. Enjolras watched the entire Thénardier family climb into the carriage before he could get off the attic to go to the salon. Before going down, he put on his tavern boots as they were very little used and practically in good condition. Enjolras looked at himself in the mirror in the living room and had trouble recognizing himself, he felt as if he saw the reflection of another in front of him, that of a nobleman, that of a man who could be wooed by R without any problems. Was it the way the nobleman saw him? This... Good looking? But all this was just a charade, this man in the mirror was not him. He was not the child abandoned by his mother and his sister or the slave who had to obey orders. Dressed like this, the guards would never dare question his majority, but he still checked to have the invitation in his pocket. 

Outside, someone shouted his first name. Enjolras looked at himself one last time in the mirror before leaving the mansion. Jehan, Feuilly, and Courf were waiting for him in Courf's cart. His three friends complimented him and teased him about his outfit until they arrived in Paris where they focused on the mission to be accomplished. Jehan and Feuilly spoke actively about what should happen after the revolution, while Courf's hands trembled as they held the reins, Enjolras remained focused on what would happen once he arrived at the castle and he repeated his speech again and again in his head. 

The remaining 10 minutes of roads went like a blur for the three young people, but they had indeed arrived in front of the castle since a servant had just taken the reins of Courfeyrac's cart to put it away with the other carriages. Scene quite surreal, to be honest, but they had to quickly recover when they heard another servant who asked them to follow him. The old man led them to the top of the stairs, then he had makes them pass through wide gates where he abandoned them in the back of a line of people. 

Even though everyone was dressed accordingly, it was easy for Enjolras to recognize the richs of the poorest. It was also easy for him to recognize the Countess's pink dress and the young man hid discreetly behind his friends. There is no way that their plan falls into the water that quickly. The crowd moved quickly, with some people not feeling the need to have one of the heralds shouting their names. Enjolras heard one of the heralds shout the full name of all Thenardier and looked up at this behavior. 

He and his friends passed very quickly in front of the butler who took the invitations and the latter raised his eyebrows very slightly when he saw that of Enjolras, as if the butler already knew about this special request. They found themselves in the middle of a huge ballroom with even larger tables containing drinks and cakes and sweets as far as the eye could see.

Enjolras decided to stay behind, for the time being, watching the line of the one waiting to show up at the prince and the balcony where the king and queen were looking at the ballroom from up there. Apparently, the costume that Enjolras was wearing was not that discreet, since it was only eight minutes after that he had entered the ballroom, and already about twenty people had gathered around him and his friends. All this people were his supporters, all waiting for him to make his first gesture, which he made once he was sure the Thénardiers had entered the line. Enjolras let about ten people get into the line before going there. The young man gestured to the others to wait for him here. 

Enjolras had to wait about twenty minutes in the queue. The young man always kept the Thenardier from view and the pen on the count's hat was easily spotted. He was once afraid that the older man would recognize him when he turned around, but not the shadow of a spark shone in his eyes when their eyes crossed. Enjolras thought that it was a good thing in the end that the Count and the Countess were not really interested by him, only Azelma the snoop could have unmasked him but the woman did not turn around, too focused on the prince surely. He looked around the huge room hoping to find his nobleman, but he was nowhere to be found and then he looked to the balcony to see the king and queen exchanging words while keeping their son in their sights. Enjolras had not yet seen the prince, he had glimpses of a green garment here and there but nothing more. Perhaps he could have seen what the prince looked like when there were only five people left between him and the prince, but someone stepped on his foot at that moment and he turned to face a young woman who began to speak to him. The woman was clearly a member of the nobility, but she did not seem to notice that she was talking to a servant. 

Eventually, the five people in front of him had disappeared and Enjolras had to apologize to the young woman since his turn had just arrived.  
Time seemed to freeze when Enjolras turned and had to face the prince, his stranger, his nobleman. The young man lost all his words, his speech flew away in his thoughts and he could think of only one thing: he had kissed The Prince of France on the cheek a multitude of times. He had also spoken to him indecently as if he were talking to a friend instead of a nobleman. But the prince did not seem at all shocked to see him there, after all the latter had enough time to spot him in the line with his red coat that The Prince had offered him. In fact, the older man seemed delighted to see him wear the clothes he had given him and seemed glad he had made such a surprise to Enjolras. 

"-R? He tried to think of something else but his mind was emptied. 

-Will I have finally managed to make you lose your words, Ange?

-I-I um... 

Everything had made so many sens now: this is why the Thénardiers had been so frightened when they received a letter from the nobleman -a letter that must have been stamped with the royal seal-, why the stranger had been to the tavern that night and had told him his name was R, that he had found it so easy to buy apples or such sumptuous clothes or to get him a custom royal invitation, or that the nobleman was so busy during the preparation of the ball.

-What if we went dancing? 

The offer was tempting especially when the prince took his hand in his, but then he thought of Eponine, Courfeyrac, and the whole village that relied on him. 

-No, no, I can not! All eyes were on him when he recoiled out of the prince's reach. I mean, I can't accept your offer, your Majesty. 

Grantaire, since that was his name, looked at him as if he did not really understand what was going to happen and he probably did not. For him, Enjolras was only a servant with a keen mind and forced to work for the count and countess of the village. He did not know that his "Apollo" was the instigator of a revolution targeting his masters. He looked up at the king and queen who looked at him with curious expressions. 

-Your majesty, he bowed while speaking in a voice strong enough to be heard by all, my name is. Antoine and if, I am here before you today it is to tell you about a matter of the highest...

-So you are the famous Antoine? A man with short grey hair, a beard, and royal guards' clothes emerged from the shadows. 

-Yes, sir, but I'm afraid not to understand... 

-Grab him! 

-What?! he asked at the same time as the prince. 

Other guards came out of the shadows and two grabbed his arms while the rest had stood in front of the inhabitants of the village who had begun to revolt. The guards began to push him towards God knew where when a voice stopped them. 

-Javert! exclaimed the prince. What's the meaning of this? I'm ordering you to release him!

-Let's see, my Prince, I can't do that. A few weeks ago, a story of revolution against royalty came to my ears. A revolution led by a mystery person who signed all his letters under the nickname Antoine. Apparently, this famous Antoine is nothing but a schoolboy. 

-It can't be, Javert! I know him, he would never have... 

Javert cut off the prince by taking a packet of letters out of his cloak, took one out, and put it under the nose of Enjolras, the young man barely had time to read the words "death to royalty" and see his signature before the royal guard gave the letter to Grantaire. 

-Is that your handwriting?" Javert asked him. 

-Y-yes, I wrote letters to the Mayor of Paris but these are not mine! I swear! Your Majesty, please believe me! 

Enjolras looked desperately at the prince, begging him to help him, but the man looked at him as if he were a stranger. 

-How could you?! I trusted you, and now I hear that you were plotting against me? 

-No! I didn't! This is not the truth! I didn't even know who you were until that moment. 

-Liar! That's why you were so reluctant to give me your name. 

-Without disrespecting you, my prince, but it seems that this young thug used you. He would never have been able to enter into the palace without the letter you had given him or without his clothes. He used you to hurt you and your family. 

-No, it's not true... R, please. 

\- ... Javert? The prince looked at the ground and his voice seemed defeatist. 

-Yes, my prince?

-Take him...

-NO! The guards began to pull him out of the ballroom and he began to struggle. GRANTAIRE! 

Enjolras managed to get out of the guards' iron grip and he grabbed the prince's hand, who raised his head to look at him. 

-Please! These are just lies... The guards took his arms back and pulled him away from the prince again. I love you! The guards were too strong and he had to let go of the prince's hands. It's the Thenardier the real monsters! Who makes tyranny reign in your name! » 

The rest of his argument was cut off by one of the guards who punched him in the stomach. He stopped resisting when he saw the look of sheer betrayal and incomprehension on the prince's face. 

Before the guards pushed him out of the room, he saw four things: the other guards trying to contain the angry villagers, a young blonde woman who was held by a person who looked like Marius, Eponine and Gavroche running towards him and the Thénardier. All three wore a carnivore smile on their faces.

They knew what he was doing behind their backs and had planned it. 

Enjolras had fallen into their trap head first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn Thenardier! I hope you like what you're reading so far. But the crispest and coming;-) 
> 
> Btw, I don't think I've specified it, but if Enjolras doesn't make the revolution to royalty, it's because in Cinderella the king was a good king despite his flaws. So I took the liberty of making the revolution against the Thenardiers. 
> 
> Oh! And if you didn't understand it, but I guess you did, the outfit that Enjolras wears is the second in the 2012 film.


	6. What happened after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you will like it and I apologize for the misspellings. I wish you a nice read!

The prince was moping. It was the only thing he could do, so he lay down in his favorite seat in his apartments. How could he be so stupid and naïve? He had trusted the human figure of Apollo and now he had burned his wings! 

Of course at first it was just a story of flirting. The prince knew how to woo on whom he wanted, women and men, all fell under his spells. And charming a peasant had been easy but this young man had been so different from all the others: quick-witted but all being shy. Enjolras had been a puzzle that Grantaire had wanted to solve. 

The only reason he had been to the tavern that night was because he had argued with his father and wanted to drink without feeling judged. So he had taken Marius with him, it was him or Javert, and they had been to a tavern south of Paris. The tavern was nothing special, hell even the village was nothing special, yet his heart told him to go home and his head reminded him that the tavern was not far from the great road where he had met the young man. Moreover, it was raining so convincing Marius to enter this tavern had been simple. The prince's gaze was immediately drawn to the bar, first because he wanted to drink but also because there was a presence there that lit up the tavern and he was delighted to see that it was his servant -The prince was not sure from the moment when the young man had begun to be "his". This time, he was not covered in soot or dressed in clothing too wide for his small frame, not the clothes fit him perfectly. It was easy to make him blush or make the young man exasperated, but it was so funny and affectionate to see him get angry that the prince was deliberately teasing him. That evening he was able to have his Ange in his arms again while he brought him back to the mansion. His heart swelled with joy and pride when he saw that his Ange trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms and he was so cute when he was half asleep. 

However, he did not forget the event of the evening and sent a letter to Thenardier, telling them what had happened, and he used the seal of Marius instead of his own, out of the question of drawing prying eyes upon him and his Apollo.

Doing his prince duties had been dull after that, he could think only of his magnificent blue eyes that shone with a fire that could warm any heart. So he decided to return to the village, discreetly, and he easily found Courfeyrac, who pointed to several places where Enjolras usually was. The prince did them all before finding the right one, his heart broke at the vision before him: his Ange, his Apollo, was wepting all the tears of his body. But the young man accepted the embrace in which the prince forced him and small hands grabbed his cloak and he could not worry about the damage caused by the ferocious grip or tears, not as long as his love cried like that. Then he's holding the smallest man against him. It was strange to feel the little shape snuggle up against his bigger and stronger chest. He was so afraid to squeeze him too hard and hurt him. Their difference in size was even more noticeable when he saw the young man in his coat. The emerald green mantle seemed twice too big for the servant and far too heavy for the frail form but at least the prince was sure that Enjolras would not freeze to death while waiting for him.

Finally, Grantaire was really able to see what he believed to be the real Enjolras when the Thénardiers went to Le Havre to pick up their daughter. It was from this version of his Ange that Grantaire thought he would fall in love. A fiery young man who was not afraid to be grounded by his masters. Who could say loud and clear his beliefs and thoughts. The prince had been shocked to hear him speak in this way, he himself not having as much opinion about his own kingdom, yet Enjolras had been there explaining to him what it would take to better help the poor or the servants, about the domestic and external politics of the country and many other things. 

Yet the prince had never made the connection, had never thought that these ideologies could go so far. He who had even used Enjolras's advices at a council where he had been obliged to attend, everyone had congratulated him for those ideas of genius yet he felt bad since it was not his idea. That day, his father had the idea of a ball to marry him and Grantaire forced him to invite the peasants and his father had agreed. The only problem was that the person he wanted to marry was not major so he solved the problem with a royal seal. 

But the ball had been a complete fiasco. He had heard Javert speak of a famous Antoine who created a revolution against the king and his family but he never thought that this Antony and his Apollo were the same person. The worst part is that Antoine, well Enjolras, had almost succeeded and all because of him! 

He had been so stupid and naïve! The traitor had told that he love him, but was it true or another lie? Was Javert right? Did Enjolras really used him?  
The prince was taken out of his thoughts by the door of his apartments which opened abruptly. He wanted to insult the person and tell him to leave, but it was Cosette who entered the room like a fury. Although half-drunk, Grantaire did not have the heart to shout at the young woman. 

"-What do you want? he growled. I'm busy. He showed the half-empty bottle in his hand. 

-Oh, Grantaire...

-I don't want your pity! He leapt out of his seat and went to the other side of his room where leaves littered the floor. Talk or leave! 

-I-I... The young woman seemed to be looking for her words. You can't let Javert do that!

-Doing what exactly? He knew very well what the young woman wanted to talk about, the sentence had been made public early this morning. 

-You know that very well. 100 lashes, Antoine will be whipped 100 times in the public square of Paris. 

-Enjolras is a TRAITOR, he has plotted against my family and he will pay the price. Be happy, it could have been worse! He could have been executed! Or  
sent to America! There at least he has a chance of survival...

-Who are you trying to convince? You or me? Cossette approached him. I know it, you know it, even the people know it: Antoine will never survive 100 lashes. Did you even see how small and young he was? Of course, he has this aura around him that makes him look stronger, tall and older but we all know that a single gust of wind could hurt him. 

Grantaire bowed his head, refusing to hear what Cosette had just said to him. He knew first-hand that Enjolras was poorly fed, he could have felt the young man's ribs when he had taken him in his arms. He knew it, but he had managed to convince himself that everything would be fine for the traitor. That his Ange would resist to the lashing with his stubbornness, but what if his body let go before his mind did? 

-Enough! He will receive 100 lashes, 60 for his betrayal against the royal family, 20 for the Thénardiers and 20 for refusing to give the names of his accomplices. Besides, how's that any of your business? Why do you care so much about his fate? Why would you doubt your king's orders for him? 

The older man expected the young woman to yell at him in return, explaining how killing a man would solve nothing, but instead, Cosette bent over to pick up two paper on the ground and gather them together. The two sheets formed a drawing. In fact, all the leaves on the ground were drawings that the prince had torn up the night before the ball. All the drawings represented the same person: Enjolras. There were at least about fifty drawings. But the one Cosette held was the most beautiful: Enjolras when he read a book at the mansion. Grantaire had no trouble remembering the scene as it had been so domestic: Eponine played the piano while Gavroche played with little wooden soldiers, Enjolras was busy reading a book about politics, his face focused on what he was reading but a smile was on his lips since he was happy, and Grantaire was at the end of the couch, his angel's feet on his thighs as the two men shared the sofa, and he drew the man near him. He had been so happy when Enjolras had caught him drawing but still let him do it. 

-Antoine... What did they do to you? murmured Cosette. 

-Do you know him? questioned the prince, suspicious. 

The young woman startled as if she had forget where she was and what she was doing but eventually nodded. 

-Yes, he is my big brother. Well, I liked to think so but he is no older than me, he is my twin. Cossette seemed to be rambling. It's just that he was  
protecting me so much that I ended up believing him to be older, stronger when he too was just a child who needed to be saved. 

-I'm afraid not to understand. 

Cosette beckoned him to sit on his bed and he did. 

-My mother's name was Fantine, she had us at a young age. But she had to work on the farm and couldn't take care of us. So she left us in the custody of the Thénardier's who promised to take care of us against a certain amount of coins. My mother then left us in their custody but made Antoine promise to protect us. What he did the best he could, he did all the most thankless tasks that the Thénardier gave us, took all the blows for both of us, and at night he let me snuggle up against him because I was afraid of the dark. He had done all this without ever complaining and he did even more! One day, my father, Mr. Mayor, came to the mansion. He found me first and helped me to tuck the buckets inside since the Thénardier had already obliged Antoine to serve their guests. He told us about our mother's death. Mum had died a month rather under the tutelage of the mayor who had promised to take care of his children. But... the Thénardiers had been smarter and, by whatever contract, received custody of one of us. Dad then gave us the choice either one of us came with him or we could both stayed together at the mansion. Antoine could have chosen to make us both stay, since I didn't wanted to leave without him, or he could have taken the opportunity and had a good life. Except that he chose to leave me in the care of the mayor, he gave me this chance and stayed with the Thénardier's. That's why... tears overflowed from Cosette's eyes. That's why I can't believe he could have done such a thing. 

-Yet he did. Javert showed me the letters, they are all signed with Antoine's first name. 

-It's clear that you don't know the Thénardier! They're twisted, tricksters and a bunch of liars! They were the ones who killed my mother, making her believe that Antoine and I were sick so that she would always give them more money. It was overwork and worry for his children that killed him! And now they're doing it again with Antoine! You can't let them do that! You can't...! » 

The young woman began to sobbs and the prince took her mechanically in his arms. He was stunned by everything Cosette had just told him, but that didn't change what was going to happen in a few hours. In the absence of evidence to the contrary Enjolras was guilty and should pay. However, the young man would have a better chance of survival if his sentence went from 100 strokes to 80, the margin was tiny but still there. All he had to do was convince a mule's head. 

Once Cosette had fallen asleep his in bed -he could make fun of Marius for having managed to put Cosette faster in his bed than his friend - and he set out to go towards the dungeon where he knew Enjolras would be. His conversation with the young woman had not taken away his anger, the man he thought he loved was a traitor who wanted to kill his family. Yet he could not prevent his heart from suffering from the lack of his Ange near him. Even though the young man had lied about his name and intentions, there were things that had seemed so authentic. Undernutrition, tears, fear and insecurity could not be falsified.

The air at the arrival of the dungeons became colder and it took him a torch to see close to him, proof that they were underground. Ordering the guards to let him pass was an easy task since Javert was not around. They opened the heavy wooden door and he walked into the hallway where all the cells were.  
The prince passed through a first cell where three prisoners were there, then a second, a third... until it reaches the one furthest from the door, the least lit and the most empty. He was sure he had arrived when he saw the red coat hanging in front of the cell. Grantaire lighted the two torches surrounding the iron gate to see better.

He had a hiccup when he saw what was in the cell. Enjolras was lying on the dirty floor instead of being on the bed that had been dug into the wall but had a mattress - royalty never went into the dungeons but made sure that the prisoners had at least one bed per person and a toilet. The young man was shirtless, leaving his new bruises in full view, as well as barefoot but he was not trembling with cold as he should. As if his body was too tired to try to warm up. Grantaire would have thought that he was asleep since the prisoner had not even looked up when he arrived, but yet he knew that the other man was awake, he could feel his gaze on him. 

"-How could you do that? 

He received no reply.  
-  
Did you have fun? 

Still nothing and the prince had get even more frantic. 

-Come on, talk! You always had a few things to say before! ideologies to follow! Was that what you wanted to do? Kill me and my family?! What for? Equality of peoples? Better recognition of domestic workers? The end of slavery? Speaks or I'll leave. 

He was done with his monologue, if Enjolras refused to talk to him then too bad for him. 

-What's the point of talking... the voice that answered him was no higher than a whisper, and Grantaire almost did not hear it. ... If you refuse to listen. 

-But I listened. No! In fact, I've seen all the evidence that points to you... Antoine. 

-Exactly... isn't it weird... I try to bring down the Thénardier's and yet it is me who is under the bars ... 

Enjolras's voice was hoarse and his laugh ended in coughing. Against his good judgment, the prince took a cup and filled it with water, he then passed it between the bars as close as possible to the young man who took the cup and drank as if he had not been drinking for days. It's clearly what must had happened since Enjolras has been in this cell for two days. 

-All the evidences say otherwise, replied Grantaire, as coldly as possible. 

-The evidences are falsifiable. 

-And how, exactly ? 

-The Thénardier' knows how to imitate signatures, they have been doing it for years. They even have a fake royal seal hidden in the Count's office. 

-I don't believe you. 

-Obviously. Enjolras laughs. The word of a servant against a nobleman does not count, does it? Even if you know the servant and what his masters did to him. It's always the same thing: if a poor man takes an apple to feed his family, it's a theft but if it's a nobleman who takes the poor man's money it's called taxes. 

-The poor man shouldn't had steal and he would have had no trouble. 

-And the nobleman should not had take all the money of the poor and thus preventing him from feeding his family. 

-So, what" The poor man has to kill the nobleman? Claim revenge? As if the nobleman didn't have a family either. 

-No, but justice should take into account the context. 

-What is the context? 

-I told you, but you refuse to listen. 

-Reexplical me. 

-I had come to the ball to have an audience with the king or the prince, I would have explained to them the situation that the village has been living for years under the reign of the Thénardier' and then I would have danced the waltz with the friend of the prince. Enjolras spat out the last words. 

-All this using the invitation I gave you, so you used me. 

-I didn't ask you for anything! I never asked you for anything. I didn't even plan to go. But it was you and your saviour instinct that gave me this opportunity and I seized it. 

-What did you planned to overthrow the Thénardier? 

-So do you believe me" The young man seemed half enthusiastic and doubtful. 

-No. The prince's voice is firming up. I'm probably known to be an alcoholic, which is true, but I take the safety of my family very seriously. However, I am curious. 

-There was no other plan. The young man got up and leaned against the wall. We tried to send letters to the mayor of Paris that went unanswered. The people agreed not to take a more violent turn until we had another solution. There were none until the ball arrived. But all this, Enjolras made a gesture to the cell, will not change anything at all. You try to make an example of me but the people will see me as a martyr and take up arms against the Thénardier's. 

-It seems that you had already planned everything. 

-It was a possibility. I expected no one to listen to me or be put under bars. In any case the Thénardier's will pay. Too bad I can't see that... 

-You really think that this ... revolution will work? That the people will rise up against the Thénardier's for you? This is insane. 

-They have to... Just because royalty turned a blind eye to our situation does not mean that the people have forgotten it. They will raise against the tyranny, I know that. 

-Your faith will be your downfall.

-It's already done. 

-You could survive... 

-And how? Javert will not retrain any of his blows and... Well, I'm not really in great shape. 

Grantaire knelt to face the young man who had sat down. 

-But the sentence could be reduced, if... 

-Non!

-Apollon, think about it for two seconds, you'd have a tiny chance of survival with only 80 shots. 

-I said: Non! N-O-N. You want it in English: NO! I would be the only one to fall and no one else. I don't care if I die anyway. 

The two men stood face to face, his green eyes meeting the prisoner's blue ones. 

-Don't be so stubborn... Your friends will survive a few lashes, they are more robust than you and I'm sure they'd rather get whipped than see you dead. 

-I've made up my mind! Javert has not been able to get me to talk and you won't get anything from me either. And if you tell the guards who your suspects, I'll deny it. 

-Think about who your decision is going to hurt. Think of Eponine, Gavroche, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Jehan. They're counting on you, they need you. 

-And you? the prisoner asked. 

-Me? 

-Do you still care about me?

-I don't know... he answered defeatist. My head tells me no, that I should let you die, but my heart bleeds for you. 

Enjolras did not answer, preferring to lower his head. 

-They're not the only ones worried about you. Another person does too: Cosette. 

The prince did not hear the prisoner's reply and asked him to repeat himself. 

-Cosette does not exist. It is only a chimera that I invented to bring me hope. Even though Eponine is still trying to make me believe in its existence. 

-She do exist... Cosette is currently in my room, sleeping in my bed after crying on my shoulder for about ten minutes because she was worried about  
you. 

-It's impossible. The young man was in denial, shaking his head as if he were forcing the prince's words away from him. 

-But it is, Ange. Eponine Pontmercy married last year to Marius Pontmercy, the man who was with me in the tavern, she is the adopted daughter of the mayor of Paris who was not thrilled to see her daughter get married but who eventually agreed. She's been living with him for 10 years. Seeing that the prisoner remained silent, Grantaire continued: How could you forget that you had a sister?

-... because it was easier, I guess. I was a child stuck between the destructive clutches of the Thenardier's and Cosette was my rock. I had to be strong for herself if not for me. But, my rock ran away, she abandoned me for a better place and I finally convinced myself that she did not exist. That I had imagined her. The pain was more manageable that way. 

-But that's not what.. 

-My prince?" What are you doing here? 

Grantaire rose hurriedly. 

-Let me ask you the same question, Javert. 

-The time has come, my lord. I came to pick up the prisoner. » 

The prince didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to say. Enjolras had made his decision anyway and Grantaire knew that he could have given the names of the young man's accomplices, to give him a very small chance, but he preferred to leave that peace of mind to his Apollo. So he turned his heels and went up the hall to the big door, then went up the stairs, passed the corridors until he was in front of the castle where Marius and Cosette -who must have been awake by her husband- were already waiting for him, both already on a horse. The prince climbed on his and made a negative sign to Cosette.The young woman swallowed her sobs and moved her horse forward. 

The two men followed her up to Paris.


	7. Hold on just a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I am sorry for the delay of last week.

The ten minutes to the big city passed in a blur for the prince. He felt like he was paralyzed not knowing what to do. It was as if an angel and a demon were fighting to know what he should believe. On the one hand, the angel, who looked strangely like Cosette, was trying to convince him of Enjolras' innocence, and on the other, the demon, resembling Javert, explained to him that he had made the right choice, that betraying Enjolras was the right decision for him, his family and the kingdom. But if it was really the right choice then why did his heart always bleed? Grantaire lamented that he had not taken a bottle with him, it probably would not have cleared up the ideas but would have had the advantage of relaxing him. 

They arrived early as the royal cart had not yet arrived. However, everyone was already there. Two stands faced each other, the first simple, like that of the gallows, consisted of two wooden poles, the second was the royal one with three thrones and seven chairs and the royal tapestries. Between the two stands were the aristocracy and other nobles, where Grantaire saw his friends: Combeferre, Joly, Bahorel, and Legsle, and on the left: the inhabitants of Paris who came for the occasion and other villagers. At the head of the procession, on the left side, was Courfeyrac, Feuilly, and Jehan, who were trying so hard to calm the crowd. Grantaire had eye contact with Courfeyrac, but the man took a step back when he saw him. 

The prince, and his two friends, left a guard to look after the three horses and they went up to the royal stage. His father, the king, was in the middle on the largest throne with his wife to his left, the third throne was empty for now. All the chairs were practically taken, Gavroche sat as close as possible to the stairs as if he was waiting for the best opportunity to escape and then was Eponine, Azelma, the Countess, the Count, the Queen, the King, the empty throne, and three empty chairs. Grantaire went to sit on his throne under the two flaming eyes of two younger Thénardier, Marius left a chair between them- which should have been occupied by the Mayor of Paris - and Cosette went to the last chair. Eponine and Cosette looked at each other for a few seconds before the blonde-haired young woman went to sit down. 

There were a few minutes of waiting, letting the atmosphere to load up with electricity. However, the Thénardier did not seem to notice him, given how they were laughed among themselves. The king had put guards on the right side of the crowd "just in case." 

Finally, the carriage arrived, with Javert at his head. A little moment of floating passed and Enjolras was finally visible. The young man was still in the same condition as Grantaire had left him: torso and barefoot. But now with the sunlight illuminating his features, the prince could see how dirty the servant was, his golden front hair now had that straw color, and how badly he looked. Grantaire finally understood what Enjolras meant by "Javert failed to get me to talk." The young man was littered with blows, especially on the face and ribs, even the limp that Enjolras was trying to hide was visible. 

Everyone held their breath when the traitor passed between the two crowds, on the one hand, the nobles looked at him with a thinly veiled contempt, while on the other, the inhabitants of Paris, the merchants, the tavern-goers, the bakers, all: from the poorest to the richest, from the most concerned by this history to the less concerned... all bowed to the leader's passage. The right hand on the heart, the left foot back, and the back bent. They all whispered a first name: Antoine. 

Only the Thénardiers did not seem to be touched by this spectacle, since the Count, the Countess, and their eldest daughter all sported with a proud smile on their faces. Their smiles grew even larger once Antoine was tied to the two poles, his chest exposed to the open, and his back exposed to Javert, ready to strike the first blow. The guard waited for the king's permission to begin, and the king gave him a wave of his hand. Grantaire felt nausea rise in him. 

Did he really make the right choice?

Javert raised his arm and then pulled it down on the young man's back. 

A strong echo of the whip falling on the flesh was heard. 

Enjolras had only one grin. 

Cosette had a rattle. 

The Thénardiers smile like predatory animals.

Grantaire did not look away. He had to look to what was going to happen. He felt as if he had to. 

So he looked mesmerized when the second strike came down, then the third, fourth... thus up to the sixth, who snatched a gasp from the prisoner. The prince could not imagine the condition of the young man's back, which must have already been bleeding. However, the servant tried to keep his head up, to maintain visual contact with the stage in front of him, but he did not look at Grantaire, he looked straight in the direction of Eponine and Gavroche who no longer had looked away. Enjolras tried to keep his gasping imprisoned in his throat- his bleeding lower lip - grew stronger towards the twentieth strike. The prince saw tears streaming down the cheeks of the man he loved and his heart tightened. 

Since Grantaire had not looked away from the opposite stage, he did not see that Gavroche had stood up and climbed on the wooden railing, but he heard him sing: 

Hold on just a little while longer. 

The prince saw Enjolras smiling at the child, but the smile turned into a grimace and the boy sang louder:

Hold on just a little while longer. 

"-Shut up! cried the countess to her son, trying to get him off the railing.

-I am confused, Your Majesty. The count tried to make amends before the king. It does not usually behave in this way. » 

The Countess managed to bring down her son, who had to stop singing, but the song did not stop

Hold on just a little while longer. 

Eponine, who had taken over the torch for his brother, received an evil look from his older sister and stopped singing. But once again, the song did not stop. All the crowd had heard the two Thénardiers singing from the top of the stage and Courfeyrac took up the torch.

Hold just a little while longer. 

Everything will be alright. 

Javert's beatings continued as if nothing were happening. It was now 26.

Everything will be alright. 

Everything will be alright. 

Feuilly and Jehan's voices join Courfeyrac in the song.

Pray on just a little while longer. 

Pray on just a little while longer. 

Pray on just a little while longer. 

As the song came to a halt, Grantaire recognized the voice of Combeferre, who continued the song, under the stunned gaze of the other nobles, but Combeferre was not really one of them— he worked for Mr. Mayor in Paris and knew the surroundings, he was the one who had pointed the village tavern to the prince.

Everything will be alright. 

Everything will be alright. 

The three men on the left side began singing with Combeferre but also with Joly, Bahorel, and Legsle. The people followed the movement and began to sing or to kicks on the ground, or at least were humming the tone of the song. 

Fight on just a little while longer. 

Fight on just a little while longer. 

Fight on just a little while longer. 

Everything will be alright. 

Everything will be alright. 

More than 40 blows had fallen on the back of the revolutionary leader. The latter now had his head down—either too weak to keep his head up or too ashamed to keep her up—his feet had stopped standing him from where they had slipped on the pool of blood covering the ground and they were hanging softly behind him. Positioned so Enjolras now looked like a fallen angel. 

You know you gotta sing on

Just a little while longer. 

Sing on just a little while longer. 

Sing on just a little while longer. 

It was beginning to worry Grantaire that she could no longer see the young servant's face and no longer hear him make a small sound of pain. He hung softly from now on and only the ties of the wooden poles held him upright. If Enjolras were reduced to this state by suffering only half of his sentence - 54 blows to be precise - what will happen when he reaches the hundredth? 

Everything will be alright. 

Everything will be alright. 

The voices of the people fell silent, as well as the kicks on the ground and the humming. All that remained were the voices of Grantaire's friends and those of Enjolras' friends. 

Hold on just a little while longer. 

Hold on just a little while longer. 

Hold on just a little while longer. 

The voices were no higher than a whisper and they went out one by one. Leaving only Courfeyrac's. 

Everything will be alright. 

Courfeyrac stop to sing. 

Everything will be alright.

Cosette sang for the first and last time. 

Everything will be alright. 

Eponine and Gavroche sang the penultimate sentence despite their parents' warning.

Everything will be alright. 

Grantaire felt he had to sing the last one, so he did so while obscuring the glances he received from his parents. 

Fortunately, his parents could not ask him about his behavior because the footsteps of a galloping horse could be heard. The horse stopped racing near the royal stage. A loud voice ordered the guards to let him pass. And finally, Mr. Mayor entered the royal dais. The latter seemed not to have slept for the last two days in view of the dark circles that were drawing before his eyes, his hair was in a battle style and he was breathless. 

"-Your Highness, he began, you must stop this masquerade. 

The king looked away from the spectacle before him to watch the mayor of Paris, stunned and beckoned him to continue. 

\- Part of what this young man said is true, Your Majesty. He did send letters to my attention. He gave a dozen letters tied together. I have read them, all of them, they are testimonies of the suffering suffered by the inhabitants of the village at the hands of the Thénardier's. None of them mention any anger against royalty. In fact, in one of them, Antoine even mentions his support for your work. He had no intention of dethroning you in any way. 

Grantaire saw his father quickly read one of the letters. 

-If these letters are aimed only at Thenardier, why didn't they follow up? They date from last year you had plenty of time to solve this problem. 

-I hadn't seen them until today. the letters were received at the town hall on the same day that my daughter was married, Your Majesty. My steward chose to ignore them and not mention them to me. 

-This whole story would be a sad story of fate, hm. And how do you explain the letters Javert received. 

The mayor of Paris remained silent for a second. 

-I cannot explain it, Your majesty. 

-I can! Gavroche exclaimed. 

His parents tried again to silence him. While the king only looked at him as a curious animal. 

-Father, Grantaire interjects, you should listen to him. After all, you are the one who preaches about the importance of what children hear and see. 

-I'm surprised you even listened to one thing I could tell you. The king chuckled. But you're right, go my kid tell me what you have to say. 

-Uh... The child looked surprised to have the right to speak, and Grantaire made a gesture of the hand so that he could start talking. His letters are false, your, uh, majesty. I heard my parents brag about Azelma's gifts for copying someone's writing, it would apparently be better than theirs.

-He's lying! the Count and the Countess squirmed. 

-No! Replied Eponine to help her little brother. That's right, they were still talking about it this morning. Those letters that threatened you are false, your grace, and we can prove it!

The young woman took two piles of letters out of her bag and gave them to the queen. 

-These letters are missives that Antoine sent to his friends. They are even dated before all this history. In fact, you even have the answers he received proving that they are authentic. 

The king and queen looked at the letters but did not have time to study them fully, since everyone could hear the Count tell his wife that they had not found these letters when they had searched Enjolras' room. 

-Obviously you didn't find them, Gavroche boasted, I hid them in my treehouse. And there was other things hidden in my cabin, show them 'Ponine.   
The older sister did as requested and rummaged through her bag, she took out a seal which she gave again to the queen and she also gave two folded papers. 

-With Antoine we found the seal in my father's office, he used it to falsify letters in your name, Your Majesty. And the other two come from the Count's register, the first is a normal sheet to prove to you his handwriting and the second is a drawing he made on the sheet. 

The drawing depicted the count on a royal throne with a crown on his head and a bubble next to him designating him as king instead of "the present buffoon." The king looked at the evidence he had placed on his lap and then looked at the Thénardier who were trying to make himself as small as possible on their chairs. 

-How much more he has left, asked the king. 

-43, whisper Grantaire. Javert is weakening so his shots are more and more spaced. 

His father seemed to hesitate. On the one hand he could continue the sentence and compensate the young man, if he survived, and pardon him for resisting. But on the other hand, he could stop the sentence now and be weak in front of his people, show a flaw in royal justice. 

-Your highness began Mr. Fauchelevent. I know this child, I met him when he was still a child. I saw right in his eyes that day, his look was that of a strong person but not of someone who was mean. He would never have conspired against you, if I can tell you, it is because he -Please! He's our brother!

The king rose from his throne with an impassive face. His father had his arms open as a sign of peace. 

-People of Paris! New elements have only just been brought to me. I fear that today is the day when royal justice failed by letting this child be charged with a crime he did not commit. Antoine Fauchelevent is and has never been a traitor to the crown, in fact he is his greatest protector. The sentence is up! Javert! Let the kid go. And you! The King pointed to the Thénardier's who were trying to make the trunk discreetly. Guards! Arrest them and make sure that they are treated like the traitors they are. 

-No, not them. Ordered the queen. Those children are the new Count and Countess Thénardier. Hurry up! she said, speaking to Eponine and Gavroche. Your brother needs the both of you. » 

The brother and sister looked at each other before smiling, Gavroche jumped over the railing while Eponine ran down the stairs in pursuit of his brother. 

The two Thénardier ran down the aisle to the cheer of the people who shouted, "Long live the king!" and "Slaughter the Thénardier!" They arrived on the other platform just as Enjolras was released from the poles by Courfeyrac and Javert. The old man helped Courfeyrac put the unconscious young man in his arms. Gavroche grabbed his big brother's pale, cold and bloody hand and gently placed it back on his bare belly. Eponine, meanwhile, touched her brother's blooded curls and placed a kiss on his forehead. They both let Courf pass with their precious treasure in his arms. 

Grantaire looked at them as the older man carried his friend in his arms as he walked down the steps. Enjolras looked so much like a fallen angel at the time that it hurt his heart to see this show. Halfway through, the three were joined by Jean, Feuilly and Combeferre, who seemed to go into doctor mode. 

All unconsciously placed themselves around their fallen leader to protect him. The prince wanted to go down the stage and go to meet them to see if his Ange was okay but his mother put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Give him space," whispered his mother, "he's going to need it after what the royalty has just put him through." 

He watched defeatist the friends of his Apollo take him away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is from the game Detroit Become Human and it is the title of the chapter.


	8. How to fight a bear?

Grantraire did not listen to his mother's advice for very long. He stayed to eat under his parents, although he did not eat much and only take a sip to calm his nerves. Finally, his father ordered him to leave the table and go to the source of his concern. But as he got up off the table, his mother stopped him to give him a piece of paper. By opening it he discovers the dissin he had made of Enjolras during their evening at the tavern. His mother told him that she and Father had found it with the other letters. The prince hurriedly left the table, not wanting to hear his parents' advice on how to woo a person. And he also ignored his mother's request to give him grandchildren. 

He quickly went to his room, preferring to leave his royal outfit for something simpler. Grantaire then donned a simple white shirt, dark green pants and his traditional green coat-coat that he had lent to his Ange that afternoon. Then the prince went to the stables to take his horse and went to Paris, he knew better than to go to the mansion of Thenardier without Cosette. The young woman was also forced by her father and husband to stand back this morning and not pursue her brother. Upon her arrival, Grantaire was not surprised to see her waiting for her on the porch of her house, her horse was already sealed and she did not wait for permission to follow the prince - after all it was he who had the highest authority. 

Both quickly headed to the Thénardier manor and were astonished to see the two gates of the mansion closed. There was a word on the gate that Eponine read aloud: "The new Count and Countess Thénardier have decided to keep the gates of the manor closed until further notice."   
Cosette looked at him defeatist but with her always determined eyes burning in her eyes, she seemed ready to climb the gates if she had to. Grantaire, on the other hand, preferred to avoid further upsetting the inhabitants of the manor and forced Cosette to sit with him on the land of the road. Anyone inside the mansion would be forced to see them if they looked out the window. 

They waited, again and again, and again until finally someone came out of the mansion. It was Combeferre who came out while stretching his tired muscles. Grantaire could only imagine that his friend had been caring for Enjolras since this morning. The man came to meet them but made no gesture to open the gates. 

"-Ferre! Cosette exclaimed. How is he? Is he okay? God, don't tell me he's dead... 

-hey, hey, hey! Combeferre tried to calm the young woman. Cosette, it's good. Antoine is alive. 

\- "Alive" but that doesn't mean he's okay. Grantaire raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms on his chest. The "for now" is implied, right? 

The doctor let go of a tired breath and seemed to be looking for his words, but he finally nodded. 

-At this level... only time will tell whether he will make it or not. But if he manages to get through the night, he will have chances, normally... 

Cosette had a hiccup in pain. 

-It's that bad? she asked, her voice trembling. 

-Unfortunately, yes. Most of the cuts had to be sewn. I tried to contain any infection but he already has a fever and it will be even worse at night. All I could do was prepare buckets of cold water, a fire in the fireplace and cover Antoine with a dozen blankets to keep him warm. 

-Can we do anything? ventured Grantaire, anything.

-Could you go into town? I'm going to need medication and herbs to get the fever through. » 

Grantaire nodded and set off right on the spot, the sun was already beginning to set. He made his horse go as fast as possible and he arrived in Paris in record time. The prince let his horse drink and rest while he went to fetch what Combeferre had asked him to take. He went to the doctor and filled up with medicine (mostly cough and fever syrups) but also bandages that he knew Enjolras would need and a cream that was supposed to soothe the pain if applied to the skin, Grantaire took only one bottle but said he would come back if the cream really worked. Then he went to get the herbs of many different kinds - enough to fill four bags. The prince allowed himself to buy more than the doctor had requested and went to the couturier to buy two of the softest and warmest pajamas - and red - for Enjolras. 

He returned to the mansion an hour later to see that Eponine had replaced Combeferre in front of the gate, the two women seemed to exchange one or two words but stopped when he arrived. Grantaire got off his horse and took away all the new supplies he gave to the hostess who opened the gate just long enough to catch them. To her skeptical gaze, the young woman with jet hair told him that she was not sure if Enjolras would really want them with him at the moment and that until he was well neither he nor Cosette could return. 

They moved their horses side by side along the way back to Paris. The young woman seemed lost in her thoughts and rightly so, even if her brother was fine for now, it did not mean that he would still be well tomorrow morning. The prince didn't want to think about it right away, he knew he'd spend the night turning and turning in bed out of guilt. If he had listened or just given Enjolras a chance then maybe they would not be in this situation now. Grantaire shook his head trying to get these ideas out of his mind. 

"-So... Does Combeferre know them? 

-It's a long story. 

-Perfect, the road is going to be long until Paris. 

He heard the young woman take a deep breathe, and then she began to speak: 

-After my father saved me from Thenardier, I was inconsolable and frightened for Antoine at all times. Even though Eponine had promised to take care of him, I could not take away the idea of my head that something terrible was going to happen to him. I mean, you met him, didn't you? They smile at that. Already at the time, he had no sense of self-preservation and already had well-established ideas on this or that subject, except that he did not yet have a filter between his brain and his mouth. So it's three elements put together did not really mix well, especially in front of Thenardier. Grantaire made a grimace and Cosette ria to a memory. For example, a little after our six years, if my memories are good, Antoine thought it would be a good idea to free the hens from their pens saying that it was "unfair that they were locked all day in his cages when it was so warm outside". So we opened their cages so they could get out, except that one of them went back into the mansion, we left the other hens to look for the one that had escaped. It was a difficult task to find the hen but it was also hilarious. Except that when Antoine tried to jump on it, to catch it, the hen went into the living room and jumped on the Countess who screamed, the scream could have broke the windows of the living room. Eponine and I tried our best to calm our laughter while Antoine lay on the ground, his arms in front of him and his legs bent over him with his face sheepish as he was sure he could catch the hen. Of course, the count was not happy so he scowled about Antoine who had a better argument than the count and the count ended up having his face as red as the tapestry and he slapped Antoine. This part was not really funny but we had the afternoon free to catch up all the hens who had taken the opportunity to run away. 

Grantaire burst out laughing when he imagined the scene of a little Enjolras trying to catch a hen—although the hatred he felt against the Thénardier grew a notch. It took him a good minute to recover. 

-I have the distinct impression that this was neither the first time nor the last time that Apollo had the advantage over the Thénardier. 

-that's for sure, they could never make the weight against him. But to go back to the original story. My father returned to the village and met Combeferre's parents to ask their son for help with something important. Combeferre's parents were not very enthusiastic that their only child would play spies against the Thénardier, but my father finally convinced them. Well, I'm sure Combeferre himself weighed the scales on Antoine's side for some reason. Combeferre's mission was easy, especially when the two became friends, apparently best friends. And the older child did everything possible to help Antoine more or less and to inform us of his situation. Except that two years ago... 

-Ferre's father died and came to Paris under the tutelage of your father. Since you were "friends" with Marius and Marius was my friend, Ferre quickly became part of our group.

Grantaire gave her a bright smile to prove that he still remembered it, and he could not mimic the quotation marks with his fingers. 

-Except that you were not there when Ferre was miserable for abandoning Antoine and Courfeyrac. He kept saying that he had abandoned them and that he had to go back. Only my father's intervention managed to convince him to stay for the good of everyone. 

-So he stopped seeing them? 

-No, where do you think he was going twice a month? Cosette smiled at him proving that she knew more than he did. 

-well... I thought he was going to visit his mother, that's what he said every time anyway. 

-He did both. 

-But... Hold on! Every time I mentioned Enjolras... 

-What happened almost all the time in the last few months...

-Ahah. But why didn't you say anything? Neither you nor Ferre had ever told me to know him or his first name. 

-Well, because none of us knew who you were talking about. Each time that you talked about him, calling him either my Angel or Apollo. And, without wishing to offend you, your description of him was not the best: "Oh! You should have seen him! He looks like an angel who fell from the heavens! To a god carved by Zeus himself! Her hair shines like gold and her eyes are even bluer than the sky itself! His voice is ... 

-Stop! I got it! The prince laugh. It's true that my descriptions were a bit... poetized. 

-A little bit? Cosette raised an eyebrow. 

-All right it was an exaggeration but your brother is really beautiful! However, dear Cosette, know that my voice does not look at all like that kind of imitation you tried to do. 

\- "His little body fits so well with mine" Cosette continued to imitate him and forced his horse to go faster. "And he's so cute! especially when he's blushing or pouting." The young woman took an even more high-pitched and honeyed voice: "Do you think he loves me?" 

-Cosette!! » 

**

It had now been four days since the public whipping and Enjolras was still unconscious. A small voice in Grantaire's head told him that it was a good thing, that at least the young man was still alive and fighting to survive. 

The first night had been the worst after Combeferre, who had spent the night watching over his friend. Enjolras had had too high a fever and helped by Courfeyrac, the doctor to plunge the injured man into a bath of cold water to calm the fever. They had had to repeat this ploy twice and both times, cries of pure pain came out of Enjolras's lips, begging them to stop hurting him. Ferre changed the bandages three times, applied the miracle cream, which really worked until he finished the pot, and forced his friend to take medication and drink tea. But eventually, the sun rose and the fearless leader was alive. But since then, his condition had not changed, his fever remained at the same temperature - too hot but more dangerous - and the young man mumbled words in his breath. Grantaire had to go once again to Paris to refuel and he bought half the stock of the miracle cream. 

During these four days, the whole manor took turns with the wounded young man to keep him alive. They changed his bandages, made sure his wounds did not become infected, forced him to drink soup and other liquid foods. And during these four days, he and Cosette, sometimes with other of their friends, sit in front of the mansion to have news. The remorse was eating away at Grantaire more and more and it was the same for Cosette. 

On that famous fourth day, Courfeyrac came out of the mansion and went to meet them. He opened the gate, went out, and then closed the gate. The man still said nothing but beckoned Grantaire to follow him into the woods. The prince did as requested, but his hands became sweaty because of his nervousness. 

"-Then, he asked to break the heavy silence, this is where you knock me out in the woods and let me be devoured by wolves? 

-There are no wolves in this part of the forest. And then killing you would be stupid since you're the prince. 

-Is that an accusation? 

-Maybe. Courfeyrac crossed his arms on his chest, the other man had seemed to him to be a cheerful and kind person the few times he had seen him yet there the man looked like a mother bear. No, actually it is. The others may be willing to forgive you, but I'm not. You got me once but not twice. 

-I already know that! I should never have told Javert to lock up Enjolras. I blame myself every moment, you don't need to add more. 

The man had a false laugh. 

-Do you think that's just the problem? That's right, you should have trusted Antoine, you should have believed it when he told you he had nothing to do with this whole thing. But, you're already punishing yourself enough so that I don't have to add a layer. 

-So what exactly is the problem? 

-You can't even understand it yourself, can you, your Majesty? There is the problem, your grace. Courfeyrac had a nasty grin every time he said a royal title. You played with Antoine! Make him believe that you were the prince's friend when you were the prince! Do you think your reputations haven't come this far? That no one here has ever heard of the prince who was more interested in his Bordeaux than in his Kingdom? To the prince who took men and women in bed at every opportunity? 

Grantaire swallowed. All of these accusations were well-founded, although the list of his suitors was not as high as that. He wanted to say something in his defense, but the other man said something that broke his heart in half. 

-It was just a game for you! You saw a peasant on the side of the road and you wanted to take your chance to have fun with him. Except That Antoine didn't let himself be so easy, so you kept coming after him, making him fall in love with you. 

-What? No...

-Know that you succeeded, Antoine fell in love with you, he trusted you with his family and you broke his heart. 

-Enough! Grantaire used his prince's voice forcing Courfeyrac to stop talking. I don't care what people say or think about me. Do I like alcohol? Yes. Have I had several lovers? Yes. Eight in total since I was 16 and I have 22. Did I wanted to hurt Enjolras? No. I'd rather be stabbed than see him suffer. If I ran after it was because I was fascinated, it was a paradox that I wanted to understand. On the one hand, he was this powerful man with ideas greater than himself, and a sharp mind, and on the other, he was this young man who blushed easily and unwittingly pouted. I wasn't having fun with him like you like to think, I was falling in love with him. 

-Were you falling in love or do you love him? 

-I love him. It was an easy answer and Grantaire didn't even have to think before he said his three little words. 

-If you really did, you wouldn't call him Enjolras like you do all the time. 

-But that's his name. 

-No, it's a stupid nickname that Azelma gave him to make fun of him. If you really knew him, you'd know that Antoine hates that nickname. 

-In that case, I would continue to call him my Angel or Apollo. 

-He's going to hate that, Courfeyrac said with a smile. 

-I know, he replied with a bright smile. » 

The prince had not really understood what had happened in the woods, Courfeyrac had seemed to hate him at first but had finally calmed his anger to become the joyful man of the tavern again.

Unknowingly, he had managed to prove that his love was sincere to the mother bear.

All he had to do was hope to do the same with Enjolras.


	9. This is not the end.

Grantraire did not listen to his mother's advice for very long. He stayed to eat under his parents, although he did not eat much and only take a sip to calm his nerves. Finally, his father ordered him to leave the table and go to the source of his concern. But as he got up off the table, his mother stopped him to give him a piece of paper. By opening it he discovers the dissin he had made of Enjolras during their evening at the tavern. His mother told him that she and Father had found it with the other letters. The prince hurriedly left the table, not wanting to hear his parents' advice on how to woo a person. And he also ignored his mother's request to give him grandchildren.  
He quickly went to his room, preferring to leave his royal outfit for something simpler. Grantaire then donned a simple white shirt, dark green pants and his traditional green coat-coat that he had lent to his Ange that afternoon. Then the prince went to the stables to take his horse and went to Paris, he knew better than to go to the mansion of Thenardier without Cosette. The young woman was also forced by her father and husband to stand back this morning and not pursue her brother. Upon her arrival, Grantaire was not surprised to see her waiting for her on the porch of her house, her horse was already sealed and she did not wait for permission to follow the prince - after all it was he who had the highest authority.  
Both quickly headed to the Thénardier manor and were astonished to see the two gates of the mansion closed. There was a word on the gate that Eponine read aloud: "The new Count and Countess Thénardier have decided to keep the gates of the manor closed until further notice."  
Cosette looked at him defeatist but with her always determined eyes burning in her eyes, she seemed ready to climb the gates if she had to. Grantaire, on the other hand, preferred to avoid further upsetting the inhabitants of the manor and forced Cosette to sit with him on the land of the road. Anyone inside the mansion would be forced to see them if they looked out the window.  
They waited, again and again, and again until finally someone came out of the mansion. It was Combeferre who came out while stretching his tired muscles. Grantaire could only imagine that his friend had been caring for Enjolras since this morning. The man came to meet them but made no gesture to open the gates.  
"-Ferre! Cosette exclaimed. How is he? Is he okay? God, don't tell me he's dead...  
-hey, hey, hey! Combeferre tried to calm the young woman. Cosette, it's good. Antoine is alive.  
\- "Alive" but that doesn't mean he's okay. Grantaire raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms on his chest. The "for now" is implied, right?  
The doctor let go of a tired breath and seemed to be looking for his words, but he finally nodded.  
-At this level... only time will tell whether he will make it or not. But if he manages to get through the night, he will have chances, normally...  
Cosette had a hiccup in pain.  
-It's that bad? she asked, her voice trembling. 

-Unfortunately, yes. Most of the cuts had to be sewn. I tried to contain any infection but he already has a fever and it will be even worse at night. All I could do was prepare buckets of cold water, a fire in the fireplace and cover Antoine with a dozen blankets to keep him warm.  
-Can we do anything? ventured Grantaire, anything.  
-Could you go into town? I'm going to need medication and herbs to get the fever through. »  
Grantaire nodded and set off right on the spot, the sun was already beginning to set. He made his horse go as fast as possible and he arrived in Paris in record time. The prince let his horse drink and rest while he went to fetch what Combeferre had asked him to take. He went to the doctor and filled up with medicine (mostly cough and fever syrups) but also bandages that he knew Enjolras would need and a cream that was supposed to soothe the pain if applied to the skin, Grantaire took only one bottle but said he would come back if the cream really worked. Then he went to get the herbs of many different kinds - enough to fill four bags. The prince allowed himself to buy more than the doctor had requested and went to the couturier to buy two of the softest and warmest pajamas - and red - for Enjolras.  
He returned to the mansion an hour later to see that Eponine had replaced Combeferre in front of the gate, the two women seemed to exchange one or two words but stopped when he arrived. Grantaire got off his horse and took away all the new supplies he gave to the hostess who opened the gate just long enough to catch them. To her skeptical gaze, the young woman with jet hair told him that she was not sure if Enjolras would really want them with him at the moment and that until he was well neither he nor Cosette could return.  
They moved their horses side by side along the way back to Paris. The young woman seemed lost in her thoughts and rightly so, even if her brother was fine for now, it did not mean that he would still be well tomorrow morning. The prince didn't want to think about it right away, he knew he'd spend the night turning and turning in bed out of guilt. If he had listened or just given Enjolras a chance then maybe they would not be in this situation now. Grantaire shook his head trying to get these ideas out of his mind.  
"-So... Does Combeferre know them?  
-It's a long story.  
-Perfect, the road is going to be long until Paris.  
He heard the young woman take a deep breathe, and then she began to speak:  
-After my father saved me from Thenardier, I was inconsolable and frightened for Antoine at all times. Even though Eponine had promised to take care of him, I could not take away the idea of my head that something terrible was going to happen to him. I mean, you met him, didn't you? They smile at that. Already at the time, he had no sense of self-preservation and already had well-established ideas on this or that subject, except that he did not yet have a filter between his brain and his mouth. So it's three elements put together did not really mix well, especially in front of Thenardier. Grantaire made a grimace and Cosette ria to a memory. For example, a little after our six years, if my memories are good, Antoine thought it would be a good idea to free the hens from their pens saying that it was "unfair that they were locked all day in his cages when it was so warm outside". So we opened their cages so they could get out, except that one of them went back into the mansion, we left the other hens to look for the one that had escaped. It was a difficult task to find the hen but it was also hilarious. Except that when Antoine tried to jump on it, to catch it, the hen went into the living room and jumped on the Countess who screamed, the scream could have broke the windows of the living room. Eponine and I tried our best to calm our laughter while Antoine lay on the ground, his arms in front of him and his legs bent over him with his face sheepish as he was sure he could catch the hen. Of course, the count was not happy so he scowled about Antoine who had a better argument than the count and the count ended up having his face as red as the tapestry and he slapped Antoine. This part was not really funny but we had the afternoon free to catch up all the hens who had taken the opportunity to run away.  
Grantaire burst out laughing when he imagined the scene of a little Enjolras trying to catch a hen—although the hatred he felt against the Thénardier grew a notch. It took him a good minute to recover.  
-I have the distinct impression that this was neither the first time nor the last time that Apollo had the advantage over the Thénardier.  
-that's for sure, they could never make the weight against him. But to go back to the original story. My father returned to the village and met Combeferre's parents to ask their son for help with something important. Combeferre's parents were not very enthusiastic that their only child would play spies against the Thénardier, but my father finally convinced them. Well, I'm sure Combeferre himself weighed the scales on Antoine's side for some reason. Combeferre's mission was easy, especially when the two became friends, apparently best friends. And the older child did everything possible to help Antoine more or less and to inform us of his situation. Except that two years ago...  
Ferre's father died and came to Paris under the tutelage of your father. Since you were "friends" with Marius and Marius was my friend, Ferre quickly became part of our group.  
Grantaire gave him a bright smile to prove that he still remembered it, and he could not mimic the quotation marks with his fingers.  
-Except that you were not there when Ferre was miserable for abandoning Antoine and Courfeyrac. He kept saying that he had abandoned them and that he had to go back. Only my father's intervention managed to convince him to stay for the good of everyone.  
-So he stopped seeing them?  
-No, where do you think he was going twice a month? Cosette smiled at him proving that she knew more than he did.  
-well... I thought he was going to visit his mother, that's what he said every time anyway.  
-He did both.  
-But... Hold on! Every time I mentioned Enjolras...  
-What happened almost all the time in the last few months...  
-Ahah. But why didn't you say anything? Neither you nor Ferre had ever told me to know him or his first name.  
-Well, because none of us knew who you were talking about. Each time that you talked about him, calling him either my Angel or Apollo. And, without wishing to offend you, your description of him was not the best: "Oh! You should have seen him! He looks like an angel who fell from the heavens! To a god carved by Zeus himself! Her hair shines like gold and her eyes are even bluer than the sky itself! His voice is ...  
-Stop! I got it! The prince laugh. It's true that my descriptions were a bit... poetized.  
-A little bit? Cosette raised an eyebrow.  
-All right it was an exaggeration but your brother is really beautiful! However, dear Cosette, know that my voice does not look at all like that kind of imitation you tried to do.  
\- "His little body fits so well with mine" Cosette continued to imitate him and forced his horse to go faster. "And he's so cute! especially when he's blushing or pouting." The young woman took an even more high-pitched and honeyed voice: "Do you think he loves me?"  
-Cosette!! »  
**  
It had now been four days since the public whipping and Enjolras was still unconscious. A small voice in Grantaire's head told him that it was a good thing, that at least the young man was still alive and fighting to survive.  
The first night had been the worst after Combeferre, who had spent the night watching over his friend. Enjolras had had too high a fever and helped by Courfeyrac, the doctor to plunge the injured man into a bath of cold water to calm the fever. They had had to repeat this ploy twice and both times, cries of pure pain came out of Enjolras's lips, begging them to stop hurting him. Ferre changed the bandages three times, applied the miracle cream, which really worked until he finished the pot, and forced his friend to take medication and drink tea. But eventually, the sun rose and the fearless leader was alive. But since then, his condition had not changed, his fever remained at the same temperature - too hot but more dangerous - and the young man mumbled words in his breath. Grantaire had to go once again to Paris to refuel and he bought half the stock of the miracle cream.  
During these four days, the whole manor took turns with the wounded young man to keep him alive. They changed his bandages, made sure his wounds did not become infected, forced him to drink soup and other liquid foods. And during these four days, he and Cosette, sometimes with other of their friends, sit in front of the mansion to have news. The remorse was eating away at Grantaire more and more and it was the same for Cosette.  
On that famous fourth day, Courfeyrac came out of the mansion and went to meet them. He opened the gate, went out, and then closed the gate. The man still said nothing but beckoned Grantaire to follow him into the woods. The prince did as requested, but his hands became sweaty because of his nervousness.  
"-Then, he asked to break the heavy silence, this is where you knock me out in the woods and let me be devoured by wolves?  
-There are no wolves in this part of the forest. And then killing you would be stupid since you're the prince.  
-Is that an accusation?  
-Maybe. Courfeyrac crossed his arms on his chest, the other man had seemed to him to be a cheerful and kind person the few times he had seen him yet there the man looked like a mother bear. No, actually it is. The others may be willing to forgive you, but I'm not. You got me once but not twice.  
-I already know that! I should never have told Javert to lock up Enjolras. I blame myself every moment, you don't need to add more.  
The man had a false laugh.  
-Do you think that's just the problem? That's right, you should have trusted Antoine, you should have believed it when he told you he had nothing to do with this whole thing. But, you're already punishing yourself enough so that I don't have to add a layer.  
-So what exactly is the problem?  
-You can't even understand it yourself, can you, your Majesty? There is the problem, your grace. Courfeyrac had a nasty grin every time he said a royal title. You played with Antoine! Make him believe that you were the prince's friend when you were the prince! Do you think your reputations haven't come this far? That no one here has ever heard of the prince who was more interested in his Bordeaux than in his Kingdom? To the prince who took men and women in bed at every opportunity?  
Grantaire swallowed. All of these accusations were well-founded, although the list of his suitors was not as high as that. He wanted to say something in his defense, but the other man said something that broke his heart in half.  
-It was just a game for you! You saw a peasant on the side of the road and you wanted to take your chance to have fun with him. Except That Antoine didn't let himself be so easy, so you kept coming after him, making him fall in love with you.  
-What? No...  
-Know that you succeeded, Antoine fell in love with you, he trusted you with his family and you broke his heart.  
-Enough! Grantaire used his prince's voice forcing Courfeyrac to stop talking. I don't care what people say or think about me. Do I like alcohol? Yes. Have I had several lovers? Yes. Eight in total since I was 16 and I have 22. Did I wanted to hurt Enjolras? No. I'd rather be stabbed than see him suffer. If I ran after it was because I was fascinated, it was a paradox that I wanted to understand. On the one hand, he was this powerful man with ideas greater than himself, and a sharp mind, and on the other, he was this young man who blushed easily and unwittingly pouted. I wasn't having fun with him like you like to think, I was falling in love with him.  
-Were you falling in love or do you love him?  
-I love him. It was an easy answer and Grantaire didn't even have to think before he said his three little words.  
-If you really did, you wouldn't call him Enjolras like you do all the time.  
-But that's his name.  
-No, it's a stupid nickname that Azelma gave him to make fun of him. If you really knew him, you'd know that Antoine hates that nickname.  
-In that case, I would continue to call him my Angel or Apollo.  
-He's going to hate that, Courfeyrac said with a smile.  
-I know, he replied with a bright smile. »  
The prince had not really understood what had happened in the woods, Courfeyrac had seemed to hate him at first but had finally calmed his anger to become the joyful man of the tavern again.  
Unknowingly, he had managed to prove that his love was sincere to the mother bear.


	10. Get well soon !

He never thought it was possible. When he closed his eyes, when he had given up, Antoine was resigned to it being the last time he closed them. And yet he opened them again and quickly closed them because of the brightness in the room. How was that possible? Yet he was sure that this was the end, that he was dead. But the pain in his back and the dryness in his throat proved to him that he had survived. Antoine tried to get up because the position he was in was not the most comfortable. He hated sleeping on his belly, especially with the pile of blanket that was piled on him. The young man did not go very far because of his injuries. His hands had trembled when he pushed on to lift himself and he fell very quickly on the mattress when the pain made him see white and he had to keep them closed for a while so that nausea would disappear. What the wounded man did not realize was that in his fall he had let out a little cry. Small cry loud enough to alert the person in the room that he was awake. 

"Antoine!"

The young man opened his eyes when he heard the male voice. He had no problem recognizing the voice of the older man, this note of exasperation and combined amusement could belong only to one person. He's moaning. 

"-'Ferre. 

-What exactly are you trying to do?" 

Antoine had the good idea to look sheepish, he didn't have to turn around to know that his friend had his fists on his hips while waiting for his answer. 

-I was, um, trying to turn around?

-Why would you do that? 

-Because I don't like this position and because I'm hot. 

-Hm, strange... Combeferre sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands through Antoine's hair as if he were looking for something. I found broken ribs, bruises, pneumonia, 60 lacerations in my back but no sign of a lump on the head or a concussion. Unless you get that this night? Yet I don't feel any bumps unless it's the fever that makes you hallucinated. 

\- Ahahah very funny, really, you're hilarious. Would you help me sit down, please?

-All right, but you keep the pillows behind your back!" 

The doctor's large hands helped him gently but surely to sit down. And while Combeferre fetched a glass of water from the other side of the room, Antoine took the opportunity to push the two extra blankets onto the bed. When his friend came back, he gave him a sharp look that Antoine's innocent face was not taking with him but still helped him to drink. The next few minutes were devoted to a change of bandage, the young man's face went from threatening to sulking every thirty seconds. He hated being sick!

"-But what did you mean by "the fever that makes you hallucinate," Antoine asked after Combeferre had finished his inspection. 

-What our dear doctor meant, little Antoine, is that during your first week of convalescence you kept whispering the 18th letter of the alphabet and you spent the second time confusing all the people who were at your bedside for a certain prince. 

The wounded man's face becomes as red as the pajamas he was wearing. 

-That's not true! Why would I have hallucinated this... this dirty traitor, liar, and... 

-... heartbreaker? Sings Courfeyrac. 

-Ingrate of noble who is born with a golden spoon in his mouth and who does not know the difference between a set-up and the truth!

-Hey, 'Ferre, doesn't this ring any bells to you? 

-I think I've heard this speech once or twice this week. 

-Yes! Just between the "why you refuse to believe me?" and the "I love you! Come back!" Courfeyrac narrowly dodged the pillow that Antoine had just sent him. 

-Antoine! Rebuked Ferre. What Courf was trying to say was that we were worried about you.

-It was implied, replied Courf, before lying down on Antoine's bed. 

-But I'm better now, so I can get up. 

-Don't even try to get up! I warn you: if you put even one toe out of this bed without my permission, I will tie you to it! Got it? 

-But! He received a menacing look from the doctor. Very well! I'll try..." 

Combeferre looked pleased with his statement -although everyone who knew Antoine knew that within an hour he would try to get out of bed - and Courfeyac laughed at his expense, so the young man did the most mature thing that came to his mind and pushed Courf out of bed. 

**

The week that followed was ... Interesting. Eponine, Gavroche, Courf, Ferre, Feuilly, and Jehan spent the week trying to keep the young man busy so that he would not get up out of bed. They forced him to sleep most of the time-which had worked for the first two days only -- then they gave him books to read and a dozen of them had accumulated on the floor of the room -and Court found it very funny to give him the books of romances of Eponine -, they also explained to him what had happened two weeks rather and the arrest of Thenardier's -as well as their forced departure to the United States - and Eponine had the hard task of teaching him that Cosette and the prince spent their afternoons into the mansion.

The new countess had finally agreed that the two nobles could remain in the living room of the manor since Combeferre had made it clear to her that leaving two nobles - and moreover the prince - in front of the manor when winter was coming could cause them problems. So she agreed to let them enter under the conditions that the two be discreet, that they help with the cleaning of the mansion and if they do not go under any pretext to the first floor. 

When she first told him about the prince's presence here, the young man's face went through several feelings: anger, betrayal, joy, his cheeks blushed a little before his face became stoic again. Eponine really hated it when his brother put masks himself with indifference on his face as if nothing could reach him. 

"-And there's something else...   
-  
What? My godmother the good fairy just made known her presence? Antoine seemed annoyed now, though he was already annoyed since Combeferre forced him to remain bedridden. 

-Not exactly. I don't know how to say it... 

-Just say it then. It's simple: Subject, verb, and complement. 

-Cosette. Is. Here. 

-Can you repeat? he asked incredulously. That's impossible. Cosette does not exist. S-she... No! I know you want to lift my morale up 'Ponine but I don't need it anymore. 

The young woman placed her hands on her hips, watching her brother frantically pass his hands through his hair. 

-In that case, you don't have a problem with me bringing her here? The young man made a little noise of amusement. Don't move, I'll be back."   
She was about to go down the stairs when she heard her brother shouting: 

-As if I could get out of this bed!" 

Antoine ruminated in his teeth, Cosette was but a chimera, a children's tale that he had told himself to reassure himself. So there was no doubt that his sister was making fun of him, she was probably going to come back with Courf who was going to make a joke. He was assured of his idea by hearing a second sound of footsteps on the stairs. But the little voice in his head signaled that Courfeyrac would not have climbed the stairs that way. The older man was either making a lot of noise on the stairs or he was very careful not to walk the creaking steps to better surprise him. Except that there, the steps looked like two women walking up the stairs. Then muffled voices came to him. Voices of two women!

Not wanting to see who was going to pass through that door, Antoine turned his gaze to the wall furthest from the door. 

Only one person came into the room. The newcomer had a little gasp, but Antoine still did not look away. 

"Antoine...?" 

He still did not turn away. 

Tears were building in his eyes. 

The woman sat down on her bed and he felt a soft hand come to caress his cheek. 

He did not move even though the young woman had the same tone of voice as the imaginary Cosette, or had the same underlying perfume, or held his cheek as the child version did. 

"-Please, look at me. 

The hand tried to force him to look at the woman, but he resisted. 

-Please. The young woman sobbed. 

-... I-I can't.

-Why not? 

-Because... otherwise, everything will fall apart, everything will become more complicated and... 

-Antoine, all this makes no sense, what do you mean? I don't understand. 

-You're going to leave, he replied in a small voice. You're going to abandon me. Again! And I can't do that again, I don't want to do that again, okay! I can't!

The hand began to force him to look at the woman again, but this time he did not have the strength to resist, everything was hurting so much. Antoine now had no choice but to look straight into a pair of familiar eyes. The young woman was like her reflection in the mirror: the eyes, the hair, the ridge of the nose, the chin. She too had tears streaming down her face. And her hand continued to caress his face. 

-You're going to listen to me, okay? He nodded. I never wanted to leave but that day you convinced me to leave because it would be the best for me. That I could become a lady, have a future, a life. And I never wanted any of this because my future was with you. But you always managed to get me to do what you wanted, so I left reluctantly. I became a lady, got married, had a life as you had asked me to. Except I never abandoned you, my heart and my thoughts were always for you because you're my big brother. That day you were brave, strong, and selfless, you sacrificed yourself for me. 

-The others prefer to call it a lack of self-preservation. 

-They must be intelligent people then. But tell me what made you think I had voluntarily left you? 

He shrugged. 

-The Thénardiers have repeatedly told me that you asked for your freedom against mine or that you had fled. Besides, Azelma kept making fun of me about it. I ended up believing it, it was so plausible. 

-You should never listen to what the Thénardiers say, you know that! They lie the way they breathe. 

A new shoulder shrug. 

-It doesn't change anything anyway since you're going to leave. 

-We've only just met and you already think I'm going to leave you?!

-It's obvious... you said it yourself: you are married. So you're going to go back to Paris and your husband, and... I'll stay here as always. New tears flowed down his cheeks. I-I don't want you to leave, Cosette. Please stay...

The young woman took her brother in her arms while paying attention to his back and left him crying on her shoulder. He clung to her as if she were her rock, as if she were going to leave if he let go of her. 

-Always." 

Antoine eventually falls asleep about 20 minutes later and Cosette knew he would want her near him so she sat on a wooden chair until he woke up. 

** 

The week after that sounded like a real liberation for Antoine. Combeferre had finally deemed him fit to get up out of bed without having to ask permission beforehand. He took advantage of his new freedoms to ventilate the room even though the cold became biting -the room smelled the contained-, changed the sheets of the bed which had not been changed for a week and he washed for the first time in three weeks without anyone to assist him. Although he let the doctor put back this kind of magic cream that calmed the pain when applied and put the bandages around his back and ribs. He had finally been able to put on real clothes and not those red pajamas which were so soft and warm and from which he had no idea where it could come from. It was the same for his new wardrobe which was plain of new and warm clothes: shirts, pants, coats, over tops, capes... But the strangest thing was that the blood-red coat was hanging from a hanger in the closet that was in the old guest room that is now her room. 

Although he was no longer a servant-Gavroche had set fire to his domestic contract, Antoine still inspected the mansion and found it immaculate and all the important chimneys were lit so that he would never get cold anywhere. 

Except that he was careful never to be in the living room between two and four o'clock in the afternoon because even though the prince knew that Antoine was cured, the man continued to accompany Cosette to the mansion. Then they would leave and Antoine would go downstairs to be with the others. This situation lasted until the week before Christmas and the snow was finally starting to come down from the sky.


	11. And they live hapily every after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ! So this is the last chapter. I hope you like it !

On that day, the snow was slowly falling but nothing too alarming, nothing that left a blizzard. Combeferre had come to check the sutures on Enjolras's back and Courfeyrac had come too, having found any excuse to see the doctor. Ferre was delighted to see that all the lacerations were all virtually closed, only the deepest ones were still pink and tender. Antoine hated those little moments when he saw the state of his back. 

Both men were now playing cards with Eponine and Gavroche who collected all the bets. The young man preferred to sit on an ideally placed chair: next to the fireplace and in front of a window to watch the snowfall. From his position, he saw the carriage arrive but preferred to stay in his place. Gavroche went to open the door to let in their two daily guests. Cosette went directly to him and he gave her room on the chair and under the blanket that Courfeyrac had forced him to have on his shoulders. He felt the prince's shocked gaze on him as it was the first time the older man had seen him since the incident, but he preferred to ignore him to speak to his sister. 

He had almost forgotten the prince's presence before he made his presence known. 

"-Cosette, we better get going. The sky is covering. 

They all gazed towards the windows to see the sky foreshadowing a real storm. His sister seemed disappointed since they had only been there for an hour, but still listened to what the prince had told her. The two guests were about to leave. 

-No! Antoine surprised himself for shouting like that. What I meant was that if you leave now you will find yourself stuck in the storm. Then stay. Both of you. If it's okay with you, your majesty. 

-I couldn't be happier, Ange." 

Fortunately, Antoine had his back turned to the prince otherwise the older man would have seen his cheeks turn red. Stupid feeling. 

Cosette re-settled by him and began to speak to him again while the other five resumed their deck of cards. At about five o'clock, Antoine left his position by the fire to go and make food for everyone. He also took the opportunity to give orders to everyone, even though Gavroche and Eponine were the masters of the mansion, they had both preferred left to Antoine the reins of the manor. Thus Eponine helped him prepare dinner, Gavroche had to prepare the table of the dining room, Courf and Ferre went to fetch wood for the cold evening, and Cosette and the prince had to prepare the rooms under the instructions of Antoine who told them where to find the sheets for the guest rooms. The young man felt in his element. 

Supper time came quickly and the latter had a rather embarrassing start as Antoine and Grantaire had to sit face to face. Let's say the tension was palpable. But Courfeyrac, as his brother's personal hero, mocked the prince who had to put his hand to the paw, like everyone else. After that, many debates about castle life were launched. 

Antoine even reached a point where he thought he could go to bed without having to talk to the prince - orders and polite answers do not count. Except Mother Nature and the prince had a completely different idea. So, after Antoine had chased everyone out of the kitchen so that he could clean the dishes himself, he was surprised by a voice at the entrance to the kitchen. 

"-Do you need help? 

-Is that Ferre that sent you?

-Ferre is too busy listening no matter what Courfeyrac says. When are these two going to realize that they love each other? Antoine shrugged his shoulders and laughed. So, can I help you? 

-It depends. Cleaning dishes is not really a task to your height, your majesty. You could break a fingernail. 

The prince stood there, sheepish and not knowing on which foot to dance after all things had been tense between him and Antoine since that unfortunate event. Deciding what he wanted to do, Grantaire took a hand towel to clean the dishes and came to stand next to the smaller man. 

-I'm ready to take all the risks... for you." 

Antoine's cheeks blushed, but the young man pretended not to be embarrassed by what the prince had just said. So he began to clean the plates he placed on the dryer so that Grantaire could wipe them. The two made a good team and the dishes shone brightly in their closets just ten minutes later. 

Antoine was about to leave the kitchen when a hand grabbed his wrist. In other circumstances the situation could have been comical since the prince's large and callous hand could go around the young man's wrist without difficulty. Except that the situation was not funny for Antoine whose breath was blocked. 

"-Don't leave... We need to talk. 

-Why do we? 

-Because this time I'm ready to listen? Because I don't want you to go away and start ignoring me again. 

Antoine had so much to say that he ended up saying nothing at all but still turned around to look the prince straight in the eye. 

-I know I owe you an apology, but I can't tell you I'm sorry. Not because I am not, believes me I am, but because these three little words are not enough to express my regret and they never will be. That night you begged me to listen to you and trust you but I didn't do it too blinded by my rage and insecurity to do so. And you said you loved me but I broke your heart. No, Grantaire silenced the young man's protests, you can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me or your mama bear sitting in the living room. I know I did it and I-I regret it so much. The prince placed his hands on Antoine's cheeks. I don't know if I will ever be worthy of your trust or your love, but if you want to give me a chance, I will make sure to repair all the evils I have caused you. 

At that point, the two men both had tears on their cheeks and the prince counted it as a victory when the young man let him betake in his arms. Antoine's head came just below Grantaire's chin, who then wrapped the smaller man in his big arms. Tears continued to flow down their cheeks, but Antoine clung to the prince as to dear life herself, and he allowed himself to be swallowed up against the body of the older and stronger man. 

-Please, whispered Grantaire desperately, said something. 

-I-I can't. Antoine's voice was muffled from where his head was hiding, but the prince had no trouble understanding it. 

-You can't what? 

-Be what you want me to be. That's impossible. 

-Nothing is impossible until we have tried. 

-You don't understand! 

-Then explain to me. 

Antoine left his hiding place to see the older man better. 

-You first. What do you want us to be? 

-Well, you'd say you're the one who refuses to listen now. Because of the serious look on the younger man's face, Grantaire stopped teasing him to answer seriously: I love you and I want us to be together. In fact, I would like more than that. He passed his hand through his hair proof of his nervousness. The ball was just a pretext, my parents want me to get married and it was my mother who came up with the idea for the ball so that I could find someone to marry. But I already knew who I wanted to marry and since you are not a major, I gave you your own invitation. 

-You wanted to marry me? That night? He received a nod. Is that why you were so hurt? A new nod. But why? 

-I promised myself I wouldn't lie to you anymore, so the first reason is that you're beautiful. Incredibly beautiful with your blue eyes, that blond hair, and I love that your body fits so easily with mine. And even all this soot didn't stop me from seeing your beauty. But then I got to know you. And I love how smart, mischievous you are, I love the passion that envelops you when you talk about something that's important to you, how much you care about your family and friends, the pout on your lips when you pretend to be mad at me and when your cheeks become as red as your coat as soon as I compliment you. As they do now. 

Antoine tried to hide his burning face against the shoulder of the laughing prince. 

-But I hate it when you try to make yourself look older than you are because the Thénardiers forced you to grow up, you seem to want to have all the sufferings of the world on your shoulders when you don't think you deserve the attention I give you or when you think your friends will leave if he sees you as vulnerable. 

-Hey, eh! You weren't praising me just a few seconds ago? Start praising me again. 

Grantaire laughs. 

-I could go on like this all night, Apollo. But I need an answer. Then? 

Antoine remained silent for several seconds and pretended to play with a thread of the prince's shirt. 

-You say... you say you like my appearance b-but my back... Ferre says some scars won't go away. 

-And I also said that I liked what happened in here. The prince touched the young man's temple with his finger. Seriously Antoine, I don't care. 

-You haven't seen them. 

-I don't need to. They are part of you now and I love every part of you. Moreover, it is my fault that you have had them so I cannot be hypocritical to their subjects. 

-It wasn't your fault, or Javert's fault, or your parents', it was the Thenardier's. 

-I'm going to need a little more time before I start believing it. 

Antoine nodded faintly. 

-So another reason why you don't accept? 

-I'm not an adult. 

-Mr. Fauchelevent is your guardian from now on and I am sure I can convince him to let you live with me. 

-Living with you? asked Antoine, surprised. At the castle? 

-Well... Grantaire blushed. I don't really have a second house so yes, at the castle. 

-But! What about my friends? What about Eponine and Gavroche? I can't leave them! 

-The world doesn't want to stop spinning just because you're away, Ange. In addition, Ferre spends his time at the castle and Courfeyrac seems ready to follow him wherever the doctor goes. Eponine is old and strong enough to look after the manor house and the village, especially helped by Gavroche. Feuilly and Jehan will always be there to help them with their needs. Not to mention that Paris is not so far from the castle so you can always see Cosette at any time and the village is not so far away, I made the trip every day from here to the castle during the last few weeks. I offer you a life at the castle, not in a cage made of gold. 

-I've already seen the dungeons anyway. Grantaire grimaced. Too soon? 

-Far too soon. One last objection before I kiss you because I really want to kiss you. 

-What if they don't like it? What if I don't fit in? I don't know anything about life in a castle. What to do, say or what not to say. What if I screw up? or that your parents don't like me? And what will people say when they see you with me from all people? 

-Ange, you have to breathe okay? It's going to be okay, I swear. You're smart, you'll find a way to integrate and how could people not love you? Especially since my parents already know that I love you and don't seem to be opposed to it. Besides, you'll have me, and Cosette, and Marius, and Ferre and Courfeyrac who's sure will be there to help you. And finally, I'm used to people talking about me behind my back so they can keep telling their gossip. I don't care as long as you're with me. 

The prince gently guided Antoine's head away from his shoulder and placed his thumbs on his cheeks to guide him upwards as he beed down. That's it: they were going to kiss. 

-What if you get bored of me? Or that you realize that I'm not what you're looking for, or... 

-Ange?

-Yes? The young man spoke in a small voice. 

-I love you, but please stop talking and let me kiss you.

-... All right. 

Grantaire took advantage of this moment of silence to kiss the sweet lips of the man he loves. The latter got up on tiptoe to better enjoy the moment and he moaned in the kiss. 

For both men this moment seemed blessed by the gods and they were finally able to enjoy their love. 

Until the cries of happiness erupted behind them, followed by wolf whistles and a "finally!" from Courfeyrac. 

They stopped kissing but stayed in each other's arms while laughing softly about being caught by all their friends. Grantaire took Antoine's hand in his while the young man was hiding from the sight of the others against the prince's chest, and he promised never to let go. 

Which he didn't do. 

They got married on Christmas Eve, everything was so magical, even more knowing that from now on everything would be fine for both of them. That nothing will ever stand between their love. 

They danced the waltz throughout the night and most of the time, Antoine whispered the name of the steps 1... 2... 3... Grantaire never said anything and let him do it, it was always better than getting his feet crushed. 

After that, they lived happily ever after, and well, you know what happened next...


End file.
